oa h 'o
The Baldwin Library
A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES
A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES
RETOLD BY S. BARING GOULD
WITH PICTURES BY A. J. GASKIN
LONDON: METHUEN AND COMPANY
36 ESSEX ST. STRAND: MDCCCXCIV
HE Fairy Tales in this little book are, PREFACE
with two exceptions only, those which
delighted our fathers and grand-
fathers in their childhood.
In the form in which we havethem they
are not older than the end of the seven-
teenth century. The majority of them
were written by Charles Perrault, whose collection
of Fairy Tales appeared in 1697, dedicated to one
of the royal family of France. It contained Blue
Beard,' 'The Sleeping Beauty,' 'Puss in Boots,'
' Riquet and his Tuft,' 'Hop-o'-my-Thumb,' Little
Red Riding-Hood,' 'Cinderella,' 'The Wishes,' etc.
To each of these tales was added a moral in bad
verse. The morals have been forgotten, the tales
are immortal. But although written by Perrault,
he did not invent the stories, they were folk-tales
which he wrote in simple words as they had been
told him in his childhood, or as he had seen them
in earlier collections.
'The tales of Perrault,' says Dunlop, are the best
of the sort that have been given to the world.
They are chiefly distinguished for their simplicity,
for the naive and familiar style in which they
are written, and an appearance of implicit belief
on the part of the relater, which, perhaps, gives us
PREFACE additional pleasure, from our knowledge of the
powerful attainments of the author, and his ad-
vanced age at the period of their composition.'
The success attained by Perrault's little collection
animated others to write Fairy Tales. Such were
the Countess D'Aulnoy, Madame Murat, and Made-
moiselle de la Force. But only the first of those
approached Perrault in charm of style, and gained
a lasting hold on posterity. She told the imperish-
able tales of 'The Fair Maid with Golden Locks,'
'Gracieuse and Percinet,' and 'The White Cat.'
Among a host of imitators none wrote stories that
have lived, except Madame de Beaumont, who pub-
lished her collection in 1740, and in it is 'Beauty
and the Beast,' a tale that has gone through suc-
cessive stages of simplification, till it has assumed
a form tolerable to childish minds.
Almost as soon as Perrault's tales became popular
in France, they were translated into English, and
speedily became indispensable in the nursery. It is
to be regretted that the popularity which attended
them caused the disappearance of a great many of
our own home-grown folk-tales. Attempts were
made in England to win the ears of little folk by
fairy tales. A couple of volumes were published in
1750, but they lacked precisely that quality which
was so conspicuous in Perrault, and so certain to
ensure success with children-simplicity, both in
structure of the plot, and in diction. Though the
stories in this collection have some merit, they
have none of them gained a hearing.
It was otherwise with Grimm; he did in Germany
on a more extended scale what Perrault did in
France, and Grimm's Folk-Tales won their way
to children's hearts at once, and have established
therein an empire, which cannot be shaken.
Grimm's success was due to the same cause as
that of Perrault.
The stories in this little book are all, with two
exceptions, known in every nursery. What I have PREFACE
done is to rewrite some of them-I may say most
of them-simply, and to eliminate the grandiloquent
language which has clung to some of them, and
has not been shaken off.
Madame D'Aulnoy sinned greatly in style, but
nothing like the degree to which others sinned.
The original Beauty and the Beast' is intolerable
in the dress in which it was sent into the world.
What Perrault did was to take traditional tales
and clothe them in the language that was adapted
to children of the end of the seventeenth century.
The tales were not original; what he did was to
print them undisfigured by fine language. His
great merit consists in having thought them worthy
to be published. Perhaps the stories want telling
a little differently to children at the close of the
I have thought so-and have so dealt with some,
but not all, of these tales.
If I have made a mistake, I am quite sure of one
thing, that the printer has made none in using
such a beautiful type as can try no eyes; and the
artist has made none in supplying such delightful
If I have made a mistake, then I appeal to the
tender hearts of the little people in the nursery-
and I know they will pardon me, not only because I
promise to make them up a set of really delightful
old, old English Fairy Tales, but mainly because
the childish heart is ever generous and forgiving.
Jack and the Bean Stalk I
Puss in Boots 14
Valentine and Orson 33
Little Red Riding-Hood 51
The Sleeping Beauty 56
The Babes in the Wood 61
Pretty Maruschka 67
Beauty and the Beast. 79
The Yellow Dwarf 99
Whittington and his Cat 124
Miranda; or, The Royal Ram 150
The Fair Maid with Golden Locks 169
Jack the Giant Killer 84
The Three Bears 94
Tom Thumb 99
The White Cat 207
The Frog Prince 228
JACK AND THE BEAN STALK
SN the days of King Alfred, there lived JACK
in a lonesome part of England a AND THE
poor widow with her son Jack. She TALNK
had a cottage, a meadow, and a cow-
shed, and one cow to eat in the
meadow, sleep in the shed, and supply
the cottage with milk and butter.
The widow had one son, his name was Jack, and
he was a thriftless, idle lad, without thought for
his mother or the morrow. She had to do all the
work and he had all the pleasure.
If the widow had not petted and spoiled her boy,
he would have been a comfort to her instead of a
trouble. If she had made him work instead of
letting him run idle, he would have been happier.
As her poverty increased, and Jack increased
at the same time, and required larger shoes,
longer stockings, and more broadcloth for his
back, the mother disposed of all her little goods
one after another, to supply his necessities. He
brought nothing into the housekeeping but took
a great deal out, and he had not the wits to see
-At length there remained only the cow to be dis-
posed of, and the widow, with tears in her eyes,
JACK said to her son: 'Jack, my dear boy, I have not
AND THE money enough to buy you a new suit of clothes,
STALK and you are out of elbows with your jacket, have
knocked out the toes of your boots, and worked
your knees through your breeches. Nothing re-
mains for us but to part with the cow. Part with
her we must, I cannot bear to see you in rags and
Jack said his mother was quite right to con-
sider his personal appearance.
Then the widow bade him take the cow to
market and sell her. Jack consented to do this.
As he was on his way he met with a butcher,
who asked him whither he was going with the
Jack said he was going to market to sell her.
'What do you want for her?' asked the butcher.
'As much as I can get,' answered Jack.
'That's spoken sensibly,' said the butcher. 'And
now I know with whom I have to deal. It's
always a pleasure to treat with a man of business
habits and with plenty of intelligence. With him
one knows where one is, but with a fool and a
scatterbrain-I ask-Where are you ?'
'Exactly,' said Jack, 'Where are you ?'
Jack was vastly gratified at being called a man,
and a man of business to boot, and with plenty of
intelligence on top of that.
'Come,' said the butcher; 'between you and me,
as business men, what will you take for the cow?'
Now, he had in his hands some curious beans of
various colours, red and violet, spotted purple and
black. Jack had never seen the like before, and
he looked curiously at them.
'Ah!' said the butcher, 'I see you are a chap as
knows what is what. In one moment, without
speaking a word, them eyes of yours went into my
hand, looking at my scarlet-runners. There is no
cheating you, you know the value of a thing by the
outside girth, you do. Well-if I was dealing with JACK
any one else, I'd say, three scarlet-runner beans AND THE
for the cow, but as you're an old hand, and a wary STALK
bird, I'll give you six.'
Jack eagerly closed the bargain. Such a chance
might never occur again, so he gave the man the
cow, and walked home with the six beans in his
hand. When his mother saw the beans, and heard
what Jack had to say, her patience forsook her;
she threw away the beans in a rage, and they were
scattered all over the garden. The poor woman
was very sad over her loss; she cried all the even-
ing, and she and Jack had to go supperless to
When Jack awoke next morning he was sur-
prised that the sun did not stream in at his
window in the manner it was wont to do, but
twinkled as through dense foliage. When he rose
from his bed, and went to the window, he saw to
his great astonishment that a large plant had
sprung up in the night and had grown in front
of the cottage, and that its green leaves and
scarlet flowers obscured the light from entering
his chamber as fully as of old. He ran down-stairs
into the garden, and saw that the beans had taken
root, and had sprung up; the stalks were en-
twined and twisted like a stout trunk, or formed a
ladder, and this mounted quite out of sight, for
the clouds as they drifted by passed across the
bean without reaching the top.
Jack very speedily resolved to climb the bean
stalk and see whither it mounted.
In the meantime his mother had come forth, no
less astonished than himself. But when he told
her it was his intention to scramble up the bean
stalk, then she entreated, threatened, and forbade
him-he must not go. He would run extraor-
dinary risks; he would break her heart.
Jack had been too long his own master, and too
regardless of his mother's feelings to pay attention
to what she said. He put his hands to the tangle
of stalks and found it extremely easy to climb.
So he set to work and began his ascent, pausing
at intervals to look round and observe the scenery
as it grew small below him.
After scrambling for several hours, he passed
through a thick layer of flaky cloud, and found
that the uppermost shoots and tendrils of the bean
were there. They had fallen over and were strag-
gling across the upper surface of the cloud.
Looking about him, Jack discovered that he was
in a very strange country. It appeared to be a
desert, without tree or shrub, here and there were
scattered masses of stone, and here and there also
were masses of crumbling soil.
Jack was so fatigued that he sat himself down JACK
on a stone and thought of his mother, and the AND THE
distress she was in, and a pang of remorse entered BEAN
his heart. Then he heard the croak of a crow, STALK
and looking up, he saw a black bird perched on a
rock. It said to him: 'Korax! Korax! I am a
fairy, and I will tell you why you are here. Your
father was a great man, and rich, and one day a
cruel giant came and killed him and carried off all
his goods, and unless your mother had hidden
herself with you in the sheep-pen, he would have
destroyed you both as well. She fled with what
little she could collect together, carrying you on
her back, and she has lived ever since in great
poverty, and her poverty and sorrows have not
been lightened by any signs of consideration and
deference shown by you. I am speaking to you
now, not that I care for you or desire to do you
good for your own worthless sake, but because I
am grateful to your mother, and I know that I
cannot give her greater pleasure than by serving
and saving you, and I hope that in future you will
behave better to her. You must know that though
I am a fairy, my power is not continuous, every
hundred years there comes a time when it fails,
and I am obliged to live on earth subject to ex-
treme poverty and privation, and to be reduced to
the utmost destitution, and that I can only be
released from this condition by one who will give
me to eat her last crumb, and to drink her last
drop, and will comb my head with her golden
'Now, yesterday, whilst you were away driving
the cow to market, I came begging to your
mother's door. She was so good, so charitable,
that she gave me the last particle of bread that
remained in the house, and the last drop of milk
that remained in the pan, and then, seeing that I
was without any of those articles of toilette which
JACK make life happy, she seated me on a stool, and
AND THE with her golden comb, the only article of luxury
BEAN that remained to her, she combed out my long
black tresses. Now, no sooner had she done this,
and spread my black hair all over me, than I was
transformed into a crow, and as a crow I flew
away, and a crow I remain until I can peck the
three golden hairs out of the mole that grows on
the tip of the giant's nose, that is, of the giant who
slew your father.
'In order to reward your mother, and also to ad-
vance my own interest, I flew over you as you were
making a great ass of yourself with the butcher,
who was laughing in his sleeve to think what a
greenhorn you were, and how easily gulled by
a little vulgar flattery, and I dropped among the
scarlet-runner beans three of a very different kind
from those the butcher was giving you; and it is
these three magical beans out of fairyland that
have grown to such a size, and up which you have
'You are now in the country where lives the
'You will have difficulties and dangers to en-
counter, but you must persevere in avenging the
death of your father, and in doing all you can to
enable me to get the three gold hairs out of the
mole at the end of the ogre's nose. One thing I
charge you strictly: do not let your mother know
of your adventures till all are accomplished; the
knowledge would be more than she could endure.'
Jack promised that he would obey the directions
of the fairy. Then she said: 'Go along due east
over this barren plain, you will soon arrive at the
Then the crow spread its wings and flew away.
Jack walked on and on, till at last he saw a
large mansion. A woman was standing in the
doorway. He accosted her and begged a morsel
of bread and a night's lodging, as he was desper- JACK
ately hungry and excessively weary. She ex- AND THE
pressed great surprise at seeing him, and said STALK
that it was an uncommon thing for a human being
to pass that way; for it was well known that her
husband was an ogre, who devoured human flesh
in preference to all other meats, that he did not
think anything of walking fifty miles to procure
it, and that usually he was abroad all day quest-
ing for it.
This account terrified Jack; nevertheless, he was
too weary and famished to think of proceeding
farther; besides, he remembered the injunction of
the fairy to avenge his father's death. He en-
treated the woman to take him in for that night
only, and to lodge him in the oven.
The good woman at length suffered herself to be
persuaded, for she was of a compassionate dis-
position. She gave him plenty to eat and drink
in the kitchen, where a pleasant fire was burning.
Presently the house shook, for the giant was ap-
proaching; and the woman hastily thrust Jack into
Next instant the giant entered, and holding his
nose high in the air, shouted in a voice of thunder:
'Ha! Ha! I smell fresh meat.'
'My dear,' answered his wife, 'it is only the calf
we killed this morning.'
The ogre was appeased, and called for his meal.
The good woman hastened to satisfy him, and
spread the table and put on it a pie that would
have taken ten men to consume it in ten days.
The ogre finished it at a sitting, and when he
had done he desired his wife to bring him his
crimson and gold hen.
Jack could look through a crevice in the door of
the oven, and he saw that the giant's wife, after
having removed the supper, brought in an osier
cage, and out of this cage took a hen that had the
JACK most magnificent plumage ever seen, shot with
AND THE green and gold and crimson. When the giant said,
BEAN 'Lay!' then at once the hen laid an egg of solid
STALK gold that shone like the sun.
The ogre amused himself a long while with the
hen; meanwhile his wife was wasMing up the
supper things in the back kitchen.
At length the giant wearied of the somewhat
monotonous sport and fell fast asleep by his
fireside, and Jack now stole out from the oven,
tucked the hen under his arm, slipped through
the house door and ran as fast as his legs could
carry him due west, till he reached the head
of the bean stalk, and he descended it rapidly
and successfully, always carrying the hen under
His mother was overjoyed to see him; he found
her crying bitterly, and lamenting his fate, for she
had made sure he had come to a shocking end
through his rashness.
Jack showed her the hen. 'See, mother,' said he,
'here is an end to our toil and trouble. Now I
hope to make some amends for all the grief I have
The hen laid them as many eggs as they desired;
they sold them, and in a little time were rich
enough to buy cows, and a new suit for Jack, and
a best gown for his mother.
But Jack was not easy. He recollected the
command of the fairy, that he was to avenge his
father, and work for her release from the form of a
crow. Accordingly he made up his mind to climb
the bean stalk and visit cloudland once more.
One day he told his mother his purpose, and she
tried to dissuade him from it, but as she saw that
he was firmly resolved to do what he said, and with
her fears to some extent allayed by the successful
issue of his first expedition, she desisted from
her attempt. Moreover, she did not know what
dangers he would run, for, obedient to the instruc- JACK
tions of the fairy, he had told her nothing of the AND THE
ogre that lusted after human flesh, and of his con- STALK
cealment in the oven.
Knowing that the giant's wife would not again
willingly admit and harbour him, he thought it
necessary on this occasion to totally disguise him-
self. Accordingly with walnut he dyed his hands
and face black, and put on the new suit which had
been purchased out of the money brought by the
sale of the golden eggs.
Very early one morning he started, and climbed
the bean stalk. He was greatly fatigued when he
reached the top, and very hungry. Having rested
for some time on the stones, he pursued his journey
to the ogre's castle. He reached it late in the
evening; and he found the woman standing at the
door as before.
Jack accosted her, and begged that she would
give him a night's lodging and something to eat.
She replied that the giant, her husband, ate human
flesh in preference to all other meat; that on one
occasion she had taken in and hidden a beggar
boy, who had run away carrying off something that
her husband prized greatly. Jack tried hard to
persuade the woman to receive him, but he found
it a hard task.
At length she yielded, and took him into the
kitchen, where she gave him something to eat and
drink, and then concealed him in the clothes-hutch.
Presently the ogre entered, with his nose in the
air, shouting: Ha! Ha! I smell fresh meat.'
His wife replied that a kid had been killed that
day, and this kid he doubtless scented.
Then she hastened to produce his supper, for
which he was very impatient, and constantly up-
braided her with the loss of his hen.
The giant at last, having satisfied his voracious
appetite, said to his wife: Bring me the money-
bags that I took out of the castle down on the
Then Jack knew that it was his father's money
the ogre was going to look at. He peeped from
his hiding-place, and saw the woman enter carry-
ing two money-bags into the room. She placed
them before her husband, who at once opened
them and poured forth from one bezants, that is to
say gold coins, and from the other deniers, that is
to say silver coins. The ogre amused himself with
counting out his money; and Jack, peeping from
his hiding-place, most heartily wished it were his.
At length the giant tired of the great mental
exertion of counting. He put back the money into
the bags, tied them up, and fell asleep.
Jack, believing all was secure, stole from his
hiding-place, and laid hold of one of the bags.
Then a little dog that was lying under the table JACK
began to bark, and Jack, fearing lest the giant AND THE
should wake, slipped back into his hiding-place. BEALK
He however remained unconscious, snoring heavily;
then the wife, who was washing-up in the back
kitchen, came in and called the dog to attend her.
The coast was now clear. Jack crept out of the
hutch, and, seizing the bags, made off with them, as
they were his father's treasure which had been
carried away by the giant.
On his way to the top of the bean stalk, the
only difficulty Jack had to encounter arose from
the weight of the bags, which burdened him im-
mensely. On reaching the bean plant, he climbed
down nimbly, carrying the treasure of gold and
silver with him, and on reaching the bottom gave
them to his mother. They were now well off, and
might have exchanged the cottage for a handsome
house, but Jack would in no way consent to this,
for he knew that he had not as yet avenged his
father, and released the fairy.
He thought and thought upon the world above
the bean stalk, and his mother saw that he was
meditating on another expedition.
She was sorrowful, as there was really now in
her mind no need for anything further; but she
knew how resolved her son was when he had
made up his mind to anything, and that it was not
in her power to dissuade him from it.
One midsummer day, very early in the morning,
Jack reascended the bean stalk. He found the
plain above the clouds as before. He arrived at
the giant's mansion in the evening, and found his
wife standing at the door. Jack had disguised
himself so completely that she did not recognize
him. He had painted his face and hands with red
ochre. When he pleaded hunger and weariness
in order to gain admission, he found it very diffi-
cult indeed to persuade her. At last he prevailed,
JACK and was concealed in the copper. When the giant
AND THE returned in the evening, he lifted his nose and
BEAN bellowed: 'Ha, Ha! I smell fresh meat.'
STALK 'Some crows have brought a piece of carrion and
have left it on the roof,' said the wife.
'I said fresh meat,' retorted the giant; and not-
withstanding all his wife could say, searched all
through the kitchen. Jack was nearly dying with
fear, and wished himself at home; and when the
ogre approached the copper and put his hand on
the lid, Jack thought his last hour had struck.
The giant however forbore from lifting the lid,
and threw himself into his chair, storming at his
wife, whom he accused of having lost him his hen
and bags of money.
She hastened to dish up supper. He ate greedily,
and when satiated, bade the woman bring him
his harp. Jack peered from under the copper
lid, and saw the most beautiful harp that could
be imagined. It had a head like an angel, and
wings. When the harp was placed on the table,
the giant shouted 'Play!' whereupon the harp
played the most beautiful music of its own accord.
The giant listened, and fell asleep. Meanwhile
his wife had finished washing-up and had retired
Jack crept from the copper, and laid hold of the
harp. But the harp had instinct, and it cried out:
'Master! Master! Master!'
The giant woke, rubbed his eyes, stretched him-
self, and looked about him. He had eaten and
drunk so much that he was stupefied, and he did
not understand what had happened, in the first
moment of being aroused.
Meanwhile Jack ran away with the harp.
In a while the giant discovered that he had
been robbed, and he rushed after Jack, and
threw great stones at him, which Jack fortu-
nately evaded. As soon as he reached the bean
stalk he began to descend, and he ran down as JACK
nimbly as might be. AND THE
The giant pursued him, and began to follow down BEALN
the bean stalk. STALK
Jack, on reaching the bottom, called for a hatchet.
His mother, who saw the danger, immediately
brought one; and Jack with the axe hewed
through the stalks near the root; consequently the
whole mass with the giant on it fell to the ground,
and the fall broke the neck of the ogre.
Immediately hovering overhead appeared the black
crow. It swooped down and picked three golden
hairs from a mole that was on the end of the
giant's nose. No sooner was that done, than the
crow was transformed into a lovely fairy.
Jack's mother was not a little delighted when
she saw the bean stalk destroyed, for now Jack
need no longer climb it. He was now allowed by
the fairy to tell the whole story; and he not only
did this, but begged his mother's pardon for dis-
obedience in past years, and promised to amend.
He kept his promise, and what with the hen that
laid golden eggs, and the bags of bezants and
deniers, and the marvellous harp that played of
its own accord, Jack and his mother no longer
suffered poverty or felt tedium.
PUSS IN BOOTS
PUSS MILLER left all he had to his three
BOINTS sons. To the eldest he gave the mill;
BOOTS to the second he gave the ass; to the
third the cat.
Very sad was the youngest over
what fell to him. The two eldest
were not kind, they managed very
well together. The first ground the corn into
flour, and the second took it about in sacks on the
ass and sold it. But the third could do nothing
with the cat but keep the mill clear of rats and
mice. One day he said: 'I am very much alone
and very poor in the world, and I live on the
charity of my brothers. They will soon turn me
out, and then I shall die of hunger and cold, when-
ever my cat has devoured the last mouse.' The
cat heard him, came and rubbed himself against
his legs, and said: 'Do not be troubled, dear
master. Have a pair of boots made for me, and
give me a sack, and you will soon see that you are
better off with me than are your brothers with the
mill and the ass.'
The young man had got a piece of gold in his
pocket; it was all the money he had. He spent
that in getting a pair of very handsome boots for
his cat, and he also got a sack, as puss required.
When the cat had got what he had asked for, PUss
then he drew on his boots-they were topped with IN
crimson leather-and he threw the sack over his BOOTS
shoulder, and went away to a warren, where there
were many rabbits. Then he put some sow-
thistles and some bran at the bottom of the sack,
and throwing himself down as though he were
dead, he waited till some foolish young rabbit
should come and be snared.
Nor had he long to wait, for very soon a silly
bunny came up, and attracted by what was in the
sack, went in. Then the cat drew the cords that
shut the neck of the sack and killed the rabbit.
Very proud of what he had done, he went to the
king's palace, and asked to speak with his Majesty.
He was readily admitted, when, marching in his
boots to the foot of the throne, he made a pro-
found bow, and throwing down the rabbit on the
steps of the dais, said: 'Sire, the Marquess of
Carabas has enjoined me to present you with a
rabbit from his warren. With onion sauce, boiled,
your Majesty will find it excellent.'
'Tell your master,' answered the king, 'that he
could hardly have afforded me a greater pleasure.
My cook never dreams of sending me up rabbit,
on which I dote. Thank him cordially from me.'
Next day the cat concealed himself in the stand-
ing corn, with his sack open. Soon two partridges
entered; he drew the strings and caught them.
Then again, he went to the palace, and presented
them to the king in the name of his master, the
Marquess of Carabas.
The king was delighted, and ordered that the
messenger should be given something to drink.
The cat asked for a saucerful of milk-he touched
nothing stronger, said he; on principle he was a
The cat continued his course; he caught in like
manner, pheasant, woodcock, snipe, teal, wild-
without understanding what was the purpose of
the cat. Whilst he was in the water, the carriage
of the king drew near; it was gilded and had glass
windows, and was drawn by cream-coloured horses
with gold and red trappings.
The cat now began to run up and down the
bank, screaming: 'Help! help! my master, the
Marquess of Carabas, will be drowned.'
duck, fieldfare, and kept the palace larder pretty
well supplied with game during the season.
One day when the cat knew that the king was
going out a drive beside the river, along with his
daughter, who was the loveliest princess in the
world and heir to his throne, the cat said to his
master: 'If you will follow my advice, your for-
tune is made. You have but to bathe in the river,
at the spot I shall point out to you, and leave the
rest to me.' The young fellow did as was advised,
The king hearing the cries, put his head out of PUSS IN
the window and bade the coachman draw up. BOOTS
Then he recognized the cat which had brought
him so many good things. He called the cat to
the carriage-side and asked what distressed him.
'Sire!' answered the cat, 'whilst the most noble
the Marquess of Carabas has been bathing
some thieves have run away with his clothes. I
am afraid if he remains much longer in the water
he may have cramp and go under.'
In fact the cat had carried away his master's
poor, mean garments, and had hidden them under
The king, who was not merely compassionate, but
also generous and not above feeling gratitude for
services rendered, at once ordered his attendants
to go back to the palace for the most splendid suit
they could find. 'I believe,' said the king, 'there
is a very fine suit made for me some twenty years
ago, when I was courting. I was then less cor-
pulent than at present. You will find it in the
lower right-hand drawer of the mahogany chest.
I have little doubt it will fit the marquess to a
nicety-that is, if he is a graceful man-I was
immensely graceful twenty years ago.'
Owing to the minute and exact instructions
given by his Majesty, the suit, which was exceed-
ingly splendid, was soon found and brought to the
lad in the water, who quickly clothed himself in it
and then came to the coach door to pay his
respects to the king and the princess.
The youth looked so engaging in the dress in
which his Royal Highness had been invested when
he went courting her mother, that the princess
immediately lost her heart to him, and felt that the
world to her would be a blank without him.
The king was also touched, for the sight of the
youth in this suit-which he became, rather than
the suit became him-awoke old feelings of senti-
PUSS IN mentality in the bosom of the king; he wiped his
BOOTS eyes, and entreated the most noble marquess to
enter the carriage with him and his daughter;
and nudging the princess, he whispered: 'I was
like that when I went a-sweethearting.'
The cat, delighted that his schemes had so well
succeeded, ran on ahead of the carriage; and
having passed through a field in which harvesters
were cutting and making stacks of golden corn,
he said to them: 'Good people 1 unless you tell the
king who is coming this way that these cornfields
belong to the Marquess of Carabas, you will all be
made mincemeat of.'
The harvesters were somewhat alarmed at the
appearance of the cat in boots; they were exceed-
ingly afraid of being made into mincemeat.
Presently the gilded coach of the king passed.
He stopped it and inquired of the peasants to
whom these splendid fields of grain belonged.
They answered, as they had been instructed, 'To
the most noble the Marquess of Carabas.'
'Upon my word!' said the king, addressing the
miller's son, 'you have a noble heritage.'
The young man bowed and blushed; and the
king and princess were pleased at his modesty.
The king nudged his daughter, and whispered:
'I was tremendously shy-when I went a-courting.'
The cat ran ahead, and came into a meadow in
which were mowers making hay. He said to
them: 'Good people! unless you tell the king who
is coming this way that these meadows belong to
the Marquess of Carabas, you will all be pickled
like young walnuts.'
When the king soon after came into the meadow
and smelt the sweet hay, he bade the coach stop,
and he inquired of the mowers to whom the
meadows belonged. They answered, as instructed,
that they belonged to the most noble the Mar-
quess of Carabas.
'Goodness!' exclaimed the king, addressing the PUSS IN
miller's son, 'you have indeed a noble heritage.' BOOTS
The young man stammered something unintelli-
gible. The king nudged his daughter, and said in
a whisper: 'I also stuttered and stammered when
I was paying my addresses to your mother.'
The cat ran on, and passed through a forest in
which woodcutters were engaged thinning the
He halted, and addressed them, and said: Good
people! unless you say that all these woods belong
to the Marquess of Carabas, you will all be stewed
in your syrup like prunes.'
When soon after this the king's coach entered
the woods, the king called to the driver to stop,
and he signed to a woodcutter to come up. He
asked him whose forests these were, and he re-
plied that they belonged to the most noble the
Marquess of Carabas.
'Well, I never!' exclaimed the king to the miller's
son, 'you have verily a splendid inheritance.'
The poor lad was so bewildered that all he could
do was to respond with a sickly smile.
The king nudged his daughter, and whispered:
' I also sniggered when I asked your mother to
name the day. She said my snigger was more
eloquent than words.'
The cat ran on, and saw at the end of the wood
a magnificent palace. He went in, and found that
it belonged to an ogre, who was also a magician
and enormously rich, for all the lands through
which the cat had run belonged to the domain
of this palace. The cat asked leave to see the
ogre. He said he could not think of passing that
way without paying him his respects.
The ogre received him with civility; even ogres
'I have been informed,' said the cat,'that you
are so clever and so profound in your acquire-
PUSS IN ments, that you can transform yourself into any
BOOTS shape you like. But this may be merely idle
gossip, not based on any foundation of truth. For
myself I never believe half the tittle-tattle I hear.'
But it is really true,' said the ogre.
The cat smiled incredulously.
'I will at once show you my power,' said the ogre;
and in a moment transformed himself into a lion.
The cat was so frightened that he made a bolt
out of the window and ran up the water-pipes and
did not rest till he was on the roof. This was
difficult for him, because he wore boots, and boots
are calculated for a high-road, and not for scram-
After some time, he plucked up courage to de-
'What do you think of my power now?' asked
the ogre, who had resumed his former shape.
'I think that your power is great,' answered the
cat, 'yet hardly all that I should have thought
had I given belief to what is said.'
How so?' asked the ogre.
'I heard, for instance, on my way here, that you
were a great bear.'
'I can make myself that in a moment,' answered
'I am sure you are that already,' answered the
cat courteously. 'Others said you were an awful
bore-or boar-I did not ask them to spell the
'I can transform myself into that instantly.'
'I am certain you need no transformation to be
that most completely,' said the cat, with a bow.
'I also heard that you were in reality quite insig-
nificant as a personage, and a nobody. Now, any
fool can puff himself up into something greater
than himself, but it takes a wise man to make
himself appear less than he really is-Can you do
'In a moment,' answered the ogre, and he PUSS IN
changed himself into a mouse. BOOTS
Instantly the cat was on him and had eaten
Then he walked to the gate of the palace, and
arrived there just as the royal carriage drove up.
'I wonder whose magnificent palace this is?' said
Then the cat ran down the steps, opened the
door of the carriage, and said: 'Your Majesty-
welcome to the palace of the most noble Marquess
'Why, this is truly a surprise,' said the king.
'What a splendid inheritance is yours, Marquis!
Give my daughter your arm. We will pick a
crumb with you, Carabas. I'm vastly hungry with
The miller's son clumsily offered his arm as
bidden to the princess. Her father nudged her,
and whispered: 'I also was a great gawky when I
proposed to your mother.'
Then all entered the great hall, and the king
could not contain his surprise and admiration at
all he saw. The cat ran down into the kitchen
and ordered up a cold collation, and into the cellars,
where he chose out the best wines; and the king
said he had never enjoyed his victuals so heartily
as that day. Then turning to the miller's son, he
said: 'If you like, Carabas, you shall be my son-
in-law. Say: I adore you-will you be mine? to
the princess. I did that when I solicited the hand
of her mother.'
The miller's son did not wait to be told this a
second time. The princess at once accepted him,
and they were married and lived happily.
The cat became a great lord, and had no occa-
sion to run after and eat mice.
HERE was once a gentleman, a CINDER-
widower, who took for his second ELLA
wife a lady who was a widow with
two daughters. He, for his part, had
a daughter by his first wife.
The second wife was extremely proud
and haughty in her demeanour, and
her two daughters had inherited their mother's
The gentleman's daughter by his first wife was
most amiable and gentle, in which points she
resembled her own mother.
No sooner had the marriage taken place than
the ill-humour of the stepmother became manifest.
She became jealous of the good qualities in the
child, which made her own daughters appear by
contrast the more disagreeable. She put upon
her all the meanest tasks, and held her to them
with inexorable severity. The young girl had to
clean pots and pans, to scrub the floors and sweep
the steps. She was obliged to do all the servile
work of the house, and be as a slave to her half-
sisters. For a bed she was given an old straw
paillasse in an attic, where it was cold, and where
ran the rats, whereas her sisters occupied the best
CINDER- rooms in the house and feather-beds. They had
ELLA also in their rooms cheval glasses in which they
could admire themselves from top to toe.
The poor girl endured all without complaining.
She did not dare to speak to her father about it,
because he was completely under the thumb of his
new wife. Moreover, he was much engaged in
business which carried him away from home for
weeks together, and she considered that if she
were to speak to him about her treatment, her step-
mother and sisters would serve her still worse as
soon as his back was turned. When she had done
her daily tasks, she was wont to creep into a
corner of the fireplace, and sat among the cinders,
for which reason her eldest sister called her Cinder-
slut, but the second who was not quite so ill-
tempered as the other, called her Cinderella.
Although, poor girl, she was given the shabbiest
clothes, and the dirtiest occupation, she was a
hundred times more beautiful than her sisters in
their finest dresses.
It happened that the king gave a ball, to which
were invited all persons of quality. Amongst
others the two young ladies of the house received
invitation. No one thought of Cinderella, for no
one knew of her existence; or if at any time they
had known, they had forgotten her since she had
been banished to the kitchen.
The two daughters of the lady were greatly
excited about the ball; they discussed how they
should be dressed and how they would have their
hair done up, and what jewels they would wear.
'For my part,' said the eldest, 'I will wear red
velvet and lace, and a turban of red and yellow,
with an ostrich feather.'
'And I,' said the younger, 'I shall wear sere
green velvet and satin embroidered with gold, and
I will frizzle up my hair and tie it with amber silk
When the time approached they made Cinderella CINDER-
lace them, and patch them, and paint them, and ELLA
frizzle them, and shoe them.
'How would you like to be at the ball?' asked
one of the sisters of Cinderella.
'As for me!' answered she, 'I do not think a
king's palace is the place for me, nor would my
sooty and soiled gown appear to advantage in a
'That is true indeed,' laughed one of the
sisters. 'That would be a rare joke to see you at
the ball.' 'And what a fool you would look if
the prince asked you to dance a minuet,' said the
For two days before the ball, the two damsels
ate nothing; they were desirous to have the small-
est waists of any ladies who appeared, and in
lacing them, Cinderella broke a score of laces
CINDER- before she had got them done up tightly enough
ELLA to satisfy their vanity. When it came to patching,
the sisters were extremely particular. I,' said one,
'will have a square patch on the top of my nose.
I think it will heighten my complexion.'
'And I,' said the other, 'will have a round one in
the middle of my forehead. It will make me so
When the young ladies departed with their
mother, then Cinderella was left quite alone in the
She sat herself on a heap of ashes in the corner
of the fireplace and began to cry.
Then all at once the hearth opened, and up
through it came a little woman with a red cloak
and a black pointed hat. This was her godmother,
who was a fairy.
The fairy godmother asked Cinderella why she
Cinderella could only stammer-'I wish--Oh, I
wish... I wish .. I wish .'
I see clearly,' said the godmother, 'that you also
would like to go to the ball; is it so?'
'Indeed-indeed-I should,'sobbed the poor girl.
'Very well, then, so you shall. Go into the garden
and bring me a pumpkin.'
Cinderella at once went to pick the finest she
could find; it was yellow streaked with green.
She took it to her godmother, but had no idea
what would be done with it.
The fairy scooped out the inside, leaving only the
skin. Then she tapped it with her staff, and in
a moment it was changed into the most beautiful
coach, gold and green.
'Now,' said she, 'bring me the mouse-trap.'
Cinderella obeyed. In the mouse-trap were six
little mice. The fairy opened the door and as the
mice ran out, she give each a tap with her rod,
and it was transformed into a beautiful horse with
flowing mane and tail. She then attached the CINDER-
six horses to the coach, the horses were all of a ELLA
beautiful brownish grey.
'What are we to do for a coachman?' asked
' etch me the rat-trap,' said the godmother. The
girl did as desired. In it were three rats. The
fairy took the fattest, and with a touch of her wand
changed him into a pompous and dignified coach-
Then she said, Go into the garden, and you will
there find six lizards behind the watering pot,
bring them to me.'
No sooner had Cinderella done what was com-
manded, than the fairy changed them dexterously
into six sleek lackeys, which mounted behind the
coach and hung on to it with all the grace and
facility as if they had been bred to it.
The fairy then said to Cinderella: 'There now, you
are set up with a conveyance in which to go to
' That is very true,' answered the girl, 'but, alas!
my clothes are so mean and soiled, that I shall be
ashamed to get out of my beautiful coach.'
'That is easily remedied,' said the fairy, and she
touched the garments worn by her godchild.
They were at once changed into the most splendid
silk, studded with diamonds.
'And now to make you complete,' said the fairy,
'I give you two glass slippers, the only ones there
are in the world.'
When Cinderella was thus dressed, she mounted
her carriage, and thanked her godmother grate-
fully. The good fairy said to her: 'I am well
pleased that you should enjoy yourself. But re-
member to leave before midnight. If you remain
a moment after the last stroke of the clock, then
your carriage will turn into a pumpkin, your horses
into mice, your driver into a rat, your flunkeys into
CINDER- lizards, and all your beautiful garments will revert
ELLA to the condition of dirty, patched rags.'
Cinderella promised her godmother to remember
what she had said, and to return most certainly
Then she started, with a heart bounding with joy.
When she arrived at the palace, it was announced
to the prince, the king's son, that a lady in the
most splendid equipage ever seen was at the gates,
and that she would not give her name.
The prince at once ran out to salute her and
invite her to the ball. He gave her his hand to
help her to descend, and led her into the great hall
where the company was assembled.
Then a great silence fell on all. The dancers
ceased dancing, the musicians ceased playing, and
the gossips ceased gossiping, all were eager to see
the strange princess.
On all sides were heard whispers of, 'What a
radiant beauty!-what superb jewels!-what an
exquisite dress-who could have been her milliner?
-What a style in the doing of her hair-who could
have been her hairdresser ?-What wonderful
slippers, who could have been her shoemaker?'
The king, although old, could hardly take his
eyes off her, and he whispered to the queen, that
except herself, he had never seen a greater beauty.
The queen, who was old and fat, accepted the
compliment gracefully, and smiled. All the ladies
observed Cinderella attentively, and endeavoured
to engrave in their memories every detail of her
dress, so as. to get their next ball-dresses made
like it. The son of the king seated Cinderella in
the most honourable place, danced with her, and
himself brought her refreshments. As for himself,
he could eat nothing, so taken up was he with
attention to her, and in admiration of her beauty.
Cinderella seated herself by her sisters, and was
very civil to them. She gave them some of the
oranges the prince had peeled for her, and talked CINDER-
to them most sweetly. They were lost in as- ELLA
tonishment, and never for an instant recognized
Presently Cinderella heard the clock strike a
quarter to twelve. Then she rose, made a grace-
ful courtesy to the king and queen and to the com-
pany, and hastened away. On her return home
she found her godmother in the chimney corner.
She thanked the fairy for the favour granted
her, and begged that she might be allowed to go
to the ball at the palace on the following night, as
the prince had expressly invited her.
Whilst she was thus talking, she heard the
coach drive up that conveyed home her sisters and
their mother. She hastened to the door, opened
for them, yawned and rubbed her eyes, and said:
'How late you are! It must be past one o'clock.'
'Ah, ha!' exclaimed her eldest sister, 'you have
missed something. There has been not only a
most splendid entertainment, but there arrived
at it a most illustrious princess, so beautiful, that
she nearly came up to me.'
'And to me,' said the second.
'And she was most superbly dressed-her taste
was almost equal to mine.'
'And to mine,' said the second.
'She was very civil to us, and gave us some
of her oranges. Indeed-for ease and graceful
courtesy, I should say she came almost up to me.'
'And to me,' said the second.
Cinderella listened to all that was said with
great interest; she asked the name of the princess.
But that-said her sisters-'is not known; the
king's son did his utmost to find it out and failed.
He says he would give a great deal to know
'0 dear, dear!' said Cinderella, 'I should like to
see her; do, dear sisters, let me go with you to-
CINDER- morrow night, spare me some of your clothes. I
ELLA should like to see this princess.'
'Hoity-toity! this is a fine idea!' exclaimed the
sisters. 'We should die of shame to be seen at a
great ball with such as you-and have it known
too that we were related.'
Cinderella expected this refusal. She was not
sorry; she would have been sorely embarrassed if
the sisters had consented to lend her their clothes,
and take her with them.
Next evening the sisters departed for the ball,
and all happened as on the previous night. This
time Cinderella was even more splendidly dressed
than on the first night.
The king's son was all the evening at her side,
and said to her the prettiest things imaginable.
Cinderella was so happy that the time passed
unobserved; and she forgot what her godmother
had said to her; so that she heard the first stroke
of twelve when she supposed it was only eleven
o'clock. Then she sprang from her seat and fled
as swiftly as a fawn.
The prince followed her, but could not overtake
her; however, in her flight she let fall one of her
glass slippers, and as the prince stooped to pick
it up she vanished. Cinderella arrived at home,
panting, in her soiled and patched dress, on foot,
without coach and attendance, nothing of all her
magnificence remained except the odd glass
The prince inquired of the guards at the palace
gate if they had seen a beautiful princess pass,
and which way her coach had gone; but they
declared that no one except a scullery-maid had
passed that way; and upon looking for her coach,
it was nowhere to be seen.
When the two sisters returned from the ball,
Cinderella asked them if they had enjoyed them-
selves, and if the beautiful lady had been there;
they replied that she had, but that she had fled at CINDER-
the stroke of twelve and had left behind a glass ELLA
slipper-the most lovely that could be conceived;
that the king's son had picked it up, and that he
had been quite disconsolate after she had dis-
appeared, and had refused to dance or to eat or
drink anything, but had sat in a corner sighing
and looking at the glass slipper.
On the following morning the town was aroused
by the blowing of trumpets, and, upon the people
coming out to know the occasion, they found the
royal heralds with a chamberlain and guards, and
an attendant carrying a crimson velvet cushion,
upon which was placed the glass slipper. The
chamberlain announced that all single ladies were
to try on the glass slipper, and that the prince had
declared he would marry the one whom it would
The slipper was tried first on the princesses,
then on all the noble ladies, then on all the court
ladies, but in vain; their feet were too large. Then
it was tried on in the town by the daughters of
the citizens, and the chamberlain brought it to the
house of the sisters. The eldest saw at a glance
that her foot would not go in, so she made an
excuse, ran into the kitchen and cut off her toes.
But even so her foot would not fit into the shoe,
and she was obliged to abandon the attempt.
Then it was offered to the second sister. She saw
at a glance that it was too small for her foot, so
she ran into the kitchen and cut off her heel.
But even so she could not get her foot into the
The chamberlain was about to leave when he
caught sight of Cinderella in the chimney corner,
and he requested her to try on the glass slipper.
The sisters set up a loud laugh, and said the
idea was ridiculous! However, the chamber-
lain insisted on it, and no sooner was the glass
CINDER- slipper put to her foot, than it slipped on as if
ELLA made for it.
The amazement of the sisters was great, but it
was greater still when Cinderella produced the
other slipper-the fellow-from her pocket, and
put it on her foot.
Then the hearth opened, and through it rose the
fairy godmother. She touched Cinderella, and her
clothes became more beautiful and costly than
those she had worn at the balls.
Then her sisters recognized her as the princess
they had seen and admired. They threw them-
selves at her feet and implored pardon for all
the injuries they had done her. Cinderella raised
them and kissed them, and said that they could
make up for the past by loving her for the future.
The fairy godmother then said that Cinderella
must go to the court in a splendid equipage,
whereupon, as by magic, the gilded coach drawn
by six greys, with the pompous coachman on the
box, and the six lackeys behind, drew up at the
In this she drove to the palace, where she was
well received by the prince, who thought her more
beautiful by daylight than by that of candles.
A few days after, there was a grand marriage.
After that Cinderella got her sisters to lodge in
apartments in the palace, and after a little urgency,
two noblemen were persuaded to marry the sisters,
who sincerely promised and vowed on their side to
be better-tempered in their married state than
they had been as spinsters. And the noblemen
promised and vowed, on their part, if they did not,
they would give them shabby clothes, and smut
their faces till they became amiable again.
VALENTINE AND ORSON
SEPIN, King of the Franks, had a sister VALEN-
m named Bellisance, who was exceed- TINE AND
ingly beautiful, and who was asked ORSON
in marriage by many kings and
The lady's choice fell upon Alex-
ander, Emperor of Constantinople,
who came to the court of King Pepin to marry
the princess. Great rejoicings took place on the
occasion in all parts of the kingdom; and soon
after the marriage the emperor took his leave, and
carried his lovely bride in great splendour and
triumph to Constantinople.
The Emperor Alexander's prime minister was a
selfish and subtle man; unhappily his influence
with the emperor was very great. This man, ob-
serving the gentleness and sweetness of the Lady
Bellisance, began to fear that she would under-
mine his influence, and he wickedly resolved to
seek the destruction of the innocent empress. The
emperor was of a credulous and suspicious temper,
and the prime minister found means at length to
infuse into his mind suspicions of the empress.
One day when the emperor was alone, he entered
VALEN the apartment, and throwing himself at his
TINE AND master's feet, said: 'May Heaven guard your
ORSON majesty from the base attempts of the wicked and
treacherous! I seek not the death of any man,
nor may I reveal the name of the person who has
intrusted to me a dreadful secret; but, in the most
solemn manner, I conjure your majesty to beware
of the designs of your empress; for that beautiful
and clever lady is faithless and disloyal, and is
even now planning your dethronement. Alas!
my heart is ready to burst with indignation, to
think that a lady of such charms, and the sister
of a great king, should become so dishonourable
The emperor giving perfect faith to his favourite's
tale could no longer restrain his fury; and abruptly
leaving him, he rushed into the apartment of
the empress, and in the fiercest manner dragged
the fair Bellisance about the chamber by her
long and beautiful hair. 'Alack! my dear lord,' she
cried, 'what causes you to commit this outrage?'
'Base wretch!' he exclaimed, 'I am but too well
informed of your wicked proceedings;' then dash-
ing her with violence upon the ground, he left her
Speechless. The attendants of the empress finding
her lying senseless on the floor, uttered loud
screams, which presently brought all the courtiers
into the chamber.
Every one was sorry for their amiable queen;
and the nobles demanded an audience of the
emperor, to represent to him the wrongs he had
done to an honourable lady, with whom no one
before had ever found any fault. But the emperor
was still blinded with passion, and to their repre-
sentations he answered: 'Let no man dare to
defend a woman who has basely betrayed me.
She shall die; and they who interfere in her behalf
shall partake in the dreadful punishment that
The empress on recovery from her swoon, fell VALEN-
upon her knees, and thus addressed the emperor: TINE AND
'Alas! my lord, take pity on one who never ORSON
harboured an evil thought against your person
or dignity; and if not upon me, at least I implore
you have compassion on your two children!
Let me be imprisoned or put to death, if it so
pleaseth you; but, I beseech you, save my poor
The rash emperor, misled by the false tales of
the prime minister, would not hearken to her;
and the courtiers, perceiving that nothing could
mitigate his rage, removed Bellisance from his
Her faithful servant, Blandiman, now threw him-
self at her feet, exclaiming, 'Ah! madam, let me
prevail on you to quit this unhappy place, and
suffer me to conduct you and your children to
your brother, the good King Pepin. Innocent and
noble lady, follow my counsel; for if you stay here
the emperor will bring you to a shameful death.'
'No, my faithful servant,' replied she; 'I cannot
follow your advice. If I should steal away
privately from the court, it might be said I had
fled because I was guilty. No; I had rather die
the most cruel death than bear the blame of that
of which I am innocent.'
The emperor so far relented, that he would not
pronounce sentence of execution upon his queen;
yet, as his mind was continually excited by false
accusations against her, he resolved to banish her
from his dominions, and immediately commanded
her to quit Constantinople. At the same time he
published an edict, forbidding all persons, on pain
of death, to assist or succour the unfortunate lady,
allowing her no other attendant than her servant
Blandiman, whom she had brought with her from
France. Sentence having been thus pronounced,
the queen, Blandiman, and the two children,
VALEN- hastened away. As she passed through the city,
TINE AND she was met by multitudes of people lamenting the
ORSON loss of so good an empress. When she had left
Constantinople, 'Alas!' cried she, 'in what un-
happy hour was I born, to fall from so high an
estate to so low a condition as I am now in!'
As she was thus complaining and weeping with
anguish, her servant said to her, 'Madam, be not
discomforted, but trust in God, who will keep and
He had hardly spoken, before he espied a fountain,
which he and his lady at once approached. After
refreshing themselves at the fountain, they pro-
ceeded towards France. Many weary days and
nights had been spent in travel, when, arriving in
the forest of Orleans, the disconsolate princess
was so overcome with grief and fatigue, that she
sank, and was incapable of proceeding farther.
Her faithful attendant gathered the fallen leaves
and the moss to make a couch for her on which
to rest, and then hastened away, to seek some
habitation where he might procure food for his
During Blandiman's absence the empress fell
asleep, with her two infant boys laid on the couch
beside her, when suddenly a huge bear rushed
out of the forest, and, snatching up one of the
children in its mouth, disappeared with its prey.
The wretched mother, distracted at the fate of her
child, pursued the bear with shrieks and lamenta-
tions, till, overcome with anguish and terror, she
fell into a swoon near the mouth of the cave into
which the bear had carried her child.
It happened that King Pepin, accompanied by
several great lords and barons of his court, was
that same day hunting in the forest of Orleans,
and chanced to pass near the tree where the other
little boy lay sleeping on his bed of moss. The
king was astonished with the beauty of the child,
who opened his eyes as the king stood gazing on VALEN-
him, and, smiling, stretched out his little arms, as TINE AND
if to ask protection. 'See, my lords,' said King ORSON
Pepin, 'this lovely infant seems to ask my favour.
Here is no one to claim it, and I will adopt it for
The king little imagined it was his nephew, the
son of his sister Bellisance, that he now delivered
into the hands of one of his pages, who took the
babe to Orleans to be nursed, and gave it, by the
king's orders, the name of Valentine, because it
was found on S. Valentine's day.
Blandiman, who had now returned, after looking
in vain for assistance, missed his mistress; and
after searching the forest for her, he at length
VALEN. espied her on the ground, tearing her hair, and
TINE AND uttering piercing cries of grief. 'Ah, Blandiman!'
ORSON she exclaimed, 'can there exist in the world a
being more encompassed with grief and sorrow?
I left Constantinople the mother of two beautiful
children, my only comfort under my bitter sorrow.
A ravenous bear has now snatched one from my
arms, and a no less cruel beast of prey has doubt-
less devoured the other. At the foot of yonder
tree I left it when I pursued the bear; but no
trace of either of my children remains. Go, Blandi-
man, leave me here to perish, and tell the Emperor
of Constantinople to what a horrible fate, by listen-
ing to evil counsel, he has destined his innocent
wife and children.'
At this moment they were interrupted by the
sudden appearance of a huge giant, who imme-
diately attempted to seize the empress. Blandi-
man sprang to his feet, stepped before him, and
began to draw and defend himself. His efforts,
however, were unavailing: the giant prevailed,
and slew him; and throwing the unfortunate lady
over his shoulder, proceeded towards his castle.
MEANTIME the bear that had carried away the
infant, bore it to its cave, and laid it down unhurt
before her young ones. The young bears, how-
ever, did not devour it, but stroked it with their
rough paws; and the old bear, perceiving their
kindness for the little babe, gave it milk, and
nourished it in this manner for the space of a
The boy became hardy and robust; and as he
grew in strength he began to range the forest, and
attack the wild beasts with such fury that they
used to shun the cave where he continued to live VALEN-
with the old bear, who loved him with extreme TINE AND
fondness. He passed eighteen years in this kind ORSON
of life, and grew to such wonderful strength,
that he was the terror of the neighboring
country. The name of Orson was given to him,
because he was nurtured by a bear; and the re-
nown of this wild man spread over all France.
He could not speak, and uttered no other sounds
than a wild kind of growl to express either his
anger or his joy. King Pepin often entertained
a great desire to see this wild man of the woods;
and one day rode with his retinue into the forest
of Orleans in hopes of meeting him. The king
left his train at some distance, rode on, and
passed near the cave which Orson inhabited.
On hearing the sound of horses' feet, the wild
man rushed upon the king, and would have
strangled him in an instant but for a valiant
knight, who galloped up and wounded Orson with
his sword. Orson then quitted the king, and,
running furiously upon the knight, caught him
and his horse and overthrew both. The king,
being quite unarmed, could not assist the knight,
but rode away to call the attendants to his rescue.
However, before they arrived on the spot, the
unfortunate knight was torn to pieces, and Orson
had fled to the thickest part of the forest, where,
notwithstanding all their endeavours, they could
not discover him. The noise of this adventure
increased every one's terror of the wild man, and
the neighboring villages were nearly abandoned
by their inhabitants.
Valentine, in the meanwhile, had been educated
in all kinds of accomplishments with the king's
two sons and his fair daughter, Eglantine.
Nothing could exceed the fondness of the young
people for each other; indeed, there was never a
lovelier princess than Eglantine, or a more brave
VALEN- and accomplished youth than Valentine. The
TINE AND king observing his inclination for arms, indulged
ORSON him with armour and horses, and after creating
him knight gave him a command in his army that
was about to march against the Saracens. Valen-
tine soon distinguished himself above the other
leaders in battle. He fought near the king's
side; and when his majesty was taken by a troop
of the pagans, Valentine rushed through their
ranks, slew hundreds of them, and replacing the
king on his horse, led him off in triumph. After-
wards, when the Saracen city was besieged, he
was the first to scale the walls and place the
Christian standard on the battlements. By his
means a complete victory was obtained, and peace
restored to France.
S, Having conquered the Saracens, Valentine returned
to the court of King Pepin, and was received with
loud acclamations by the people, and joyfully
welcomed by the Princess Eglantine. The distinc-
tions and favour showered on him raised the
envy and hatred of the king's sons, who plotted
together to destroy Valentine.
It happened very shortly after the return of
Valentine from his victory over the Saracens, that
a petition was presented to the king by a deputa-
tion ,of peasants, praying relief against Orson, the
wild man of the woods; the fear of whom was now
become so great that the peasants dared not go
out to till their fields, nor the shepherds to watch
their flocks. The king immediately issued a
proclamation, saying, if any man would undertake
to bring Orson dead or alive to the city, he should
receive a thousand marks of gold.
'Sire,' said his sons, 'we think no person is so
proper to undertake this enterprise as the found-
ling Valentine, on whom your majesty lavishes
such great favours, and who, it seems, aspires to
the hand of your daughter. Perhaps if he
conquers the savage with his sword, you will not VALEN-
think it then too much to reward him with the TINE AND
hand of our sister Eglantine.' ORSON
Valentine saw through the malicious design of
the king's sons; and the king himself wished to
protect him, and advised him not to encounter
such an enemy.
'Pardon me, my liege,' replied Valentine; 'it con-
cerns my honour that I go. I will encounter this
danger, and every other, rather than not prove
myself worthy of your majesty's favour and pro-
tection. To-morrow I will depart for the forest at
break of day.'
When the Princess Eglantine heard of Valentine's
determination, she sought to turn him from his
purpose; but finding him inflexibly resolved to
attack the wild man, she adorned him with a
scarf, embroidered by her own hands, and then
retired to her chamber to pray for his safety.
At the first dawn of morning Valentine arose, put
on his armour, and with his shield polished like a
mirror, he departed for the forest. On his arrival
there, he alighted, tied his horse to a tree, and
penetrated into the thickest part of the wood in
search of Orson.
He wandered about a long time in vain'; till
coming near the mouth of a large cave, he thought
that might be the hiding-place of the wild man.
Valentine then climbed a high tree near the cave;
and scarcely was he seated among the branches,
before he heard Orson's roar in the forest. Orson
had been hunting, and came with a swift pace,
bearing upon his shoulders a buck he had killed.
Valentine could not help admiring the beauty of
his person, the grace and freedom of his motions,
and his appearance of strength and agility. He
felt a species of affection for the wild man, and
wished it were possible to tame him without
having recourse to weapons. Valentine now tore
VALEN- off a branch of the tree, and threw it at Orson's
TINE AND feet; who, looking up and espying Valentine in
ORSON the tree, uttered a growl of fury, and darted up
the tree like lightning. Valentine as quickly
slipped down on the other side. Orson seeing
him on the ground leaped from the tree, and, open-
ing his arms, prepared in his usual manner to rush
upon and overthrow his antagonist; but Valentine
holding up his polished steel shield Orson sudden-
ly beheld, instead of the person he meant to seize,
his own wild and terror-striking figure. Upon
Valentine's lowering the shield, he again saw his
enemy, and with a cry of transport prepared to
grasp him in his arms. The strength of Orson
was so very great, that Valentine was unable to
defend himself without having recourse to his
sword. When Orson received a wound from the
sword, he uttered loud shrieks of anger and sur-
prise, and instantly tearing up by the roots a large
tree, furiously attacked Valentine. A dreadful
fight now ensued, and the victory was a long time
doubtful; Orson received many dreadful wounds
from the sword of Valentine, and Valentine with
great difficulty escaped from being crushed to
death beneath the weighty club of Orson. At last
Valentine's skill prevailed, and the wild man was
conquered, and lay prostrate on the ground at his
Valentine now made signs to Orson that he
wished him to accompany him, on which he quietly
suffered his hands to be bound; and Valentine
having mounted his horse, the two brothers pro-
ceeded towards Orleans.
WHEREVER they passed, the people on seeing
the wild man, ran into their houses and hid them-
selves. When Valentine arrived at an inn where VALEN-
he intended to rest during the night, the terrified TINE AND
inhabitants fastened their doors, and would not ORSON
suffer them to enter. Valentine made signs to
Orson, who placed his shoulder against the door,
and forced it open in an instant; upon which the
people of the inn all ran out at the back-door, and
would not venture to return. A great feast was in
preparation, and there were plenty of fowls and
good provisions roasting at the fire. Orson tore
the meat off the spit with his hands, and devoured
it greedily; and espying a caldron of water, he
put his head into it and drank like a horse.
In the morning, Valentine resumed his journey,
leading Orson as before. On arriving at the city,
the inhabitants shut their doors, and ran into the
highest rooms to gaze upon the wild man. When
they reached the outer court of King Pepin's palace,
the porter in a great fright barred the gate with
heavy chains and bars of iron, and would not be
prevailed upon to open it. After soliciting admit-
tance for some time, and being still denied, Valen-
tine made a sign to Orson, who, tearing up one
of the large stone posts that stood by, shattered
the gate to pieces. The queen, the Princess
Eglantine, and all their attendants, fled to hide
themselves when they heard that Orson was
arrived; and Valentine had the greatest difficulty
to persuade them to believe that Orson was no
longer furious and savage as he had been in the
woods. At length the king permitted him to be
brought in; and the whole court soon gathered in
a crowd in the apartment, and were much amused
by his wild actions and gestures, although they
were very cautious not to come near him. On
Valentine's making signs, he kissed the king's
robe, and the hand of the Princess Eglantine; for
Orson had now become so attached to Valentine
that he would obey him in all things, and would
VALEN- suffer no other person to attempt to control him.
TINE AND If Valentine went for a moment out of his sight,
ORSON he would utter cries of distress, and overturn every
one that stood in his way, while he ran about the
palace in search of him; and he slept at night in
Valentine's chamber on the floor, for he could not
be prevailed to lie on a bed.
Very soon after the capture of Orson, a herald
appeared at the court of King Pepin, from the
Duke of Aquitaine, summoning all true knights to
avenge the cause of the Lady Clerimont, daughter
to the noble duke, who was held in cruel captivity
by Atramont, the black knight: the herald pro-
claimed that whoever should conquer him would
receive the hand of the lady in marriage, together
with a princely dowry. This knight was so famous
for his cruelty and his victories, that the young
lords of the court all drew back, and were unwill-
ing to enter the lists; for it was known that he
was defended by enchantment, and it was his
practice to hang upon a high tree all the knights
whom he had defeated. Valentine, however,
offered himself without hesitation; and though he
did not intend to ask the lady in marriage, he
nevertheless determined to attempt her rescue
from the hands of the giant.
Valentine, followed by Orson as his squire, soon
reached the castle of the black knight, and imme-
diately demanded the freedom of the captive lady.
This was refused, and the two knights at once
began the combat. The fight was long and equal.
At length Atramont demanded a, parley: 'Knight,'
said he to Valentine, 'thou art brave and noble;
behold, yonder hang twenty knights whom I have
overcome and put to death: such will be thy fate;
I give thee warning.'
'Base traitor,' replied Valentine,' I fear thee not;
come on-I defy thee.'
'First,' rejoined the black knight, 'fetch me
yonder shield; for in pity to thy youth, I tell thee, VALEN-
unless thou canst remove that shield, thou canst TINE AND
not rescue the lady, nor conquer me.' ORSON
Valentine approached the shield; but, in spite of
all his efforts, he could not loosen it from the tree,
though it appeared to hang on only a slender
branch. Valentine, breathless with his exertions
to pull down the shield, stood leaning against the
tree, when Atramont, with a loud laugh, exclaimed,
'Fly and save thyself, fair knight; for since thou
canst not move the shield, thou art not destined
to be my victor. Further, know there is no one
living who can subdue me, unless he be the son of
a mighty king, and yet has been suckled by a wild
Valentine started on hearing these last words,
and immediately ran to Orson, and led him to the
enchanted shield. On Orson's raising his arm
towards it, it dropped instantly from its place. A
loud blast of wind rushed through the trees, the
ground rocked beneath their feet, and the black
knight trembled and turned pale; then gnashing
his teeth he seized his sword, and attacked Orson
with desperate fury. At the first blow, Atramont's
sword broke in pieces upon the enchanted shield.
Next he caught up a battle-axe, which also
snapped instantly in two. He then took a lance,
which was shivered to atoms in the same manner.
Furious with these defeats, he threw aside his
weapons, and trusting to his great strength,
attempted to grasp Orson in his arms: but Orson,
seizing him as if he had been a mere child, dashed
him on the ground, and would have instantly
destroyed him, had not Valentine interposed to
save his life. Orson continued to hold him down
till some chains were brought, when, in despite of
the furious struggles of the black knight, Orson
bound him in strong fetters, to lead him away a
VALEN- Atramont, finding himself conquered, addressed
TINE AND himself to Valentine, and said: 'This savage man
ORSON is my conqueror, and there is some mystery in his
fate. Hasten to the castle of the giant Ferragus,
where, if you can conquer him, you will find a
brazen head, kept by a dwarf, that will explain to
you who this savage is. You will also be able to
set at liberty all the captives whom he keeps con-
fined in his dungeons.'
He then directed them on their way to the
giant's castle; and after they had rested and
refreshed themselves, they took their departure.
THEY had to pass over many a hill and valley,
and through wild and trackless forests; at last
they came in view of the giant's castle, to which
the entrance was by a bridge of brass. The build-
ing itself was of marble, and the battlements were
surmounted by golden pinnacles, which glittered
richly in the evening sun as the two brothers ap-
proached the castle. Beneath the bridge of brass
a hundred bells were fastened by a strange device,
so that neither man nor beast might pass over
without a loud alarm being given. The moment
the two travellers began to cross the bridge the
bells sounded, and immediately the great gates of
the castle were thrown open, and a huge giant
stalked forth, bearing in his hand a knotted club
of steel. He immediately summoned them in a
voice of thunder to lay down their arms.
'Yield, you caitiffs !' said he, 'or I will make you
food for the wolves and birds of prey. No one
comes here and escapes with his life so long as
I can wield my good club.'
'Vain boaster,' replied Valentine, 'I scorn you
and your threats! I come determined to force the VALEN-
brazen gates of your castle and to set free your TINE AND
With these words he put spurs to his steed, and
aimed his trusty spear at the giant's head. The first
thrust made the giant bleed, and he, in his turn,
aimed a desperate blow at the knight. This happily
missed, and left Valentine an opportunity of attack-
ing the giant with his sword, which he did with the
greatest courage, aiming blow after blow, first on
one side, then on another, with the utmost agility
and skill. But at last the giant, mad with pain and
rage, saw that his adversary was beginning to flag,
and found opportunity to deal him a tremendous
blow with his mace, which laid both horse and
rider senseless on the ground. He now grinned a
hideous grin, and, stooping down, he was about
to aim a second blow, exclaiming, 'Now, caitiff,
breathe thy last.' But before he could raise his
arm to strike, two tremendous blows descended
upon his own head, and the monster fell groaning
to the earth. These blows came from the knotty
club of Orson, who, seeing his friend's danger, ran
up just in time to save him. The giant was dead;
and, with Orson's care and attention, Valentine
soon began to recover.
They now began to search the giant's castle,
both to set free his captives and to find the dwarf
who would give the promised explanation. As
they went through the gloomy apartments and
dungeons, they found the bones of many murdered
knights who had been overcome by the giant, and
at last, in a little dim cell lighted by one small
window, they found a lady lying on the ground
and bathed in tears. At their entrance she lifted
up her eyes and begged for mercy. Valentine
gently raised her, and assured her that they were
come to succour her, that the giant was killed,
and that the castle-gates were thrown open. They
VALEN- then led her out of the dungeon into one of the
TINE AND apartments of the castle, and supplied her with
ORSON food and wine, and attended to all her wants.
They then inquired her name and her story,
when she related to them her whole history, as it
has been already told, from the time of her mar-
riage to the hour when the fierce giant slew her
trusty attendant, and carried her off by force to
the castle. But, when they heard her name, and
that she was sister to King Pepin, they were
beyond measure amazed and overjoyed; for they
had often heard the sad story of the Empress of
Constantinople, and how the emperor, after she
had gone, had discovered the treachery of his
prime minister, and had made long and anxious
search for his wife and children, but in vain.
VALENTINE and Orson determined to set out
for the coast of France as soon as the Lady Belli-
sance was able to travel, knowing how overjoyed
the old king would be to see his long-lost sister.
But, before taking their departure, they went to
search for the dwarf, who at last was found in one
of the turrets of the castle, and who immediately
expressed his willingness to serve his deliverer,
now that his cruel master was dead.
They desired him to lead them to the chamber
where the brazen head was kept, which he imme-
diately did. Valentine fixed his eyes upon the
head, anxious to hear what it would say con-
cerning his birth. At length it spake thus: 'Thou,
O renowned knight, art called Valentine the Brave,
and art the man destined to be the husband of the
Princess Eglantine of France. Thou art son to the
Emperor of Greece, and thy mother is Bellisance,
sister to King Pepin of France. She was unjustly
banished from her throne, and after many wander- VALEN-
ings, she was seized by a giant and confined in a TINE AND
dungeon of this castle, where she has been for ORSON
twenty years. The wild man, who hath so long
accompanied thee, is thy brother. You were both
lost in the forest of Orleans. Thou wert found
and brought up under the care of King Pepin thy
uncle, but thy brother was stolen and nurtured
by a bear. Proceed to France with the innocent
empress, thy hapless mother. Away, and prosper!
These are the last words I shall utter. Fate has
decreed, that when Valentine and Orson enter this
chamber, my power ends.'
Having thus spoken, the brazen head fell from its
pedestal, and in the fall was broken into a thou-
The two youths stood for a moment fixed with
astonishment; they then joyfully embraced each
other, and rejoined the empress to tell her the
extraordinary news they had just heard. Imagine
her surprise when she saw before her her two long-
lost sons. To describe her emotions on this joyful
occasion would be impossible.
After the first transports were over, they prepared
for their departure. The stables of the giant's
castle furnished them with horses; and everything
else necessary for their journey was found in its
well-stored recesses. So, taking with them the
dwarf as their servant, the whole party proceeded
The meeting of King Pepin and his dear sister
was, we need not say, a happy and joyful one. A
courier was immediately despatched to Constan-
tinople to inform the Emperor Alexander of the
arrival of his empress at the capital of France.
The messenger found him still mourning the loss
of his innocent queen, and refusing all comfort
from those around him, from the thought that by
his own folly and rashness he had been the cause
VALEN- of her banishment and death. The news was like
TINE AND life to the dead; and the emperor, as soon as he
ORSON had sufficiently collected himself to give the proper
orders, set off with his whole court to meet his
long-lost queen, and to bring her back in triumph
to her throne. His delight was still further in-
creased when he saw the two youths his sons, and
embraced them for the first time since they were
Great rejoicings, feasts, dances, and tournaments
were held in honour of these events in all parts
of the French king's dominions; and, in due
time, the emperor and his queen, accompanied by
Orson, took their departure for their own country.
Valentine remained at the court of his uncle, and
was shortly after married th the fair Princess
At the death of the monarch they succeeded to
the empire, and were blessed with a long and
LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD
LL in a little cottage LITTLE
There lived a little maid, RED
The sweetest little maiden that ever RIDING-
And her mother loves her well
But her granny loves her better,
And she had a little red hood, just like
a little queen.
Now, because this little girl wore a red cloak
with a red hood, everybody called her Little Red
Riding-Hood. It chanced one day her mother had
made some custards and a little plum-pudding.
And she said:
'Now take the little basket,
And the little custard too,
And the little pudding boiled for your granny dear.
But don't you stop or stay,
Do not idle on the way,
On the highroad little Riding-Hood will nothing
have to fear.
'Go,' said her mother, 'straight along to your
grandmother, give her the nice things in your
basket, and then come straight home again and
tell me how the old lady is. Mind, talk to no one
on the way.'
So little Red Riding-Hood set off immediately
to go to her grandmother, who lived in a cottage
beyond the wood.
Instead of taking the highway, she went through
the wood, and there she met the old grey wolf,
who wanted to eat her, but he durst not, for there
were men in the wood, making fagots. But he
stopped her and said: 'What have you got in
your basket, my dear?'
'Only some custard and plum-pudding and a little
pat of butter.'
'And where are you going, my dear?'
'I am going to see granny.'
'Where does granny live, my dear?'
'In the cottage beyond the wood,' answered Red
'And when you get to the cottage, what do you do ?'
'I knock at the door.' LITTLE
'And what does your grandmother say?' asked RED
the wolf. RIDING-
'She says, "Who is there?"' answered the little
'And what do you do next?'
'I answer and say, "I am little Red Riding-
Hood, and I have brought you a custard and
plum-pudding and a little pat of butter."'
'What does grandmother then say ?'inquired the
'She says, "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will
Well, when the wolf heard this, off he ran as
fast as he could, taking the nearest way; and the
little girl, forgetting again her mother's commands,
idled on the way, picking hazel-nuts, running after
butterflies, making posies of the wild-flowers.
The wolf was not long before he got to the old
woman's door. He knocked-tap, tap.
'Who is there?' called a voice from within.
'Your grandchild, little Red Riding-Hood,'
replied the wolf, imitating the child's voice as
nearly as possible. 'I have brought you a custard
and a little plum-pudding and a little pat of butter.'
The old grandmother, who was infirm and in
bed, cried out:
'Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.'
The wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened,
and then he fell on the poor old woman, and
gobbled her up in a moment, for he had eaten
nothing for many days. He then shut the door,
and jumped into the grandmother's bed, and pulled
on the grandmother's nightcap, which he had not
eaten, but had reserved, lest it should spoil his
appetite for what was coming. Presently he heard
little Red Riding-Hood's tap, tap, at the door. So
he called out: Who is there?'
'It is your grandchild, little Red Riding-Hood,
LITTLE who has brought you a custard and a little plum-
RED pudding and a little pat of butter.'
RIDING- The wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as
HOOD much as he could:
'Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.'
Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the bobbin, and
the door opened.
The wolf, seeing her come in, drew the bed-
clothes up about his shoulders and said:
'Put the custard and the plum-pudding and
the pat of butter on the table, and come and sit
on the stool beside the bed and tell me how your
'She is very well, thank you, granny,' answered
the girl, as she put the articles she had brought
on the table.
'Mother said I was to bring back the basket,'
she said, 'so that she may be able to send you
something nice in it again, another day.'
'That is very good of your mammy. Come and
sit on the stool, my dear.'
So little Red Riding-Hood came over and sat
close by the bed, and she was much amazed to
see how her grandmother looked. So she said:
'Grandmamma, what great arms you have got!'
'The better to hug you, my dear.'
'Grandmamma, what a long nose you have got!'
'The better to smell you, my dear.'
'Grandmamma, what long ears you have got!'
'The better to hear you, my dear.'
'Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!'
'The better to see you, my dear.'
Grandmamma, what great teeth you have got!'
'The better to eat you, my dear.'
Saying these words, the wicked wolf threw off
the bed-clothes, jumped out of bed, and fell on
little Red Riding-Hood to eat her up.
But at that very moment-Bang! through the
door a gun was fired, and the grey old wolf rolled
over, shot through the head. Then in came the LITTLE
forester, and this was little Red Riding-Hood's RED
father. He had seen the wolf hasting off in the RIDING-
same direction in which he saw afterwards his HOOD
little daughter had gone, so thought the cunning
and cruel beast was after mischief, and he hastened
in the same direction with his gun. Poor little
Red Riding-Hood was so frightened that she
could not walk home, and could only sob and cling
to her father, and so he carried her, and as he car-
ried her, he said:
'A little maid
Must be afraid
To do other than her mother told her.
Of idling must be wary,
Of gossiping be chary,
She'll learn prudence by the time that she is older.'
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY
THE ANY years ago there lived a king and a
SLEEPING queen who had an only daughter, and
BEAUTY she was so beautiful that, at her birth,
the king knew not what to do for joy,
and he appointed a great feast to
celebrate it. He invited not only his
relations and friends, and his whole
court, but also the wise women, in order that they
might be kind and bestow favours upon the new-
born princess. There were thirteen of these
women in his kingdom; but as he had only
twelve gold trenchers for them to eat off, he
could not invite them all; so one was left out.
The twelve who were invited came; and when
the feast was over, they began to bestow their
wonderful gifts upon the child. One gave her
virtue, a second beauty, a third riches, a fourth
modesty, and so on with everything that is good
and valuable in the whole world. But just as
the eleventh had finished bestowing her gift, in
came the thirteenth, who had not been invited,
and began to threaten vengeance for the affront
which the king had put upon her. 'The maiden,'
she said, 'when she comes to her fifteenth year,
shall pierce her hand with a spindle, and shall fall
down dead!' At this the king and queen were THE
grieved beyond measure; but the twelfth fairy, SLEEPING
who had not yet bestowed her gift, stepped forward BEAUTY
and spoke; she could not indeed, she said, prevent
what her sister had determined, but she could
mitigate it. The king's daughter,' she continued,
'shall not die, but she shall fall into a deep sleep,
which shall last a hundred years; at the end of
which time a king's son shall awaken her: and
when she falls asleep the whole palace will sleep
The king, who was very anxious, if possible, to
ward off this misfortune from his dear child, made
a proclamation that every spindle should be sent
out of the kingdom, and that none should be seen
all over the land until the princess had passed her
fifteenth year. In the meantime the wishes of the
fairies came to pass, for the maiden grew up so
beautiful, so modest, so amiable, and so intelligent,
that no one who saw her could help immediately
loving her.' Now it happened one day, when she
was nearly fifteen years old, that the king and
queen went from home, and the young princess
was left quite alone in the palace. She walked
about through all the rooms and passages, and
wandered hither and thither as her fancy led her,
till at last she came to an old tower. Here she
saw a narrow staircase, which she mounted, and
then she came to a little door. In the lock of the
door there was a rusty key, and when she turned
it round the door sprang open, and there she saw,
sitting in the corner of a little room, a very old.
woman, who was busily employed with her spin-
ning-wheel. 'Ah! old granny,' said the king's
daughter, 'what are you about there?'-'I am
spinning,' answered the old woman, and nodded
her head to the princess. 'How merrily that thing
goes round,' spoke the maiden,-taking the spindle
in her hand at the same time,-' let me try if I can
THE spin too.' But scarcely had she touched the
SLEEPING spindle when she pierced her hand with it, and
BEAUTY the enchantment took effect. That moment she
fell down and sank into a deep sleep. She was
then carried to a chamber and laid upon a beauti-
ful couch; and no sooner was this done than the
king and queen, and their servants, and the whole
court, and everything about the castle, fell asleep
likewise. The horses and grooms slept in the
courtyard, or in the stalls, the dogs in the kennel,
the pigeons on the roof, and the flies on the walls;
even the very fire, which flamed upon the hearth,
became still and slept; the roast ceased to hiss;
and the cook, who had caught the kitchen-girl by
the hair to punish her for some fault, let go her
hold and fell asleep; and all that had the breath of
life was still, and slept.
And now a hedge of thorns began to grow all
round the castle, which hedge every year became
higher and thicker, until at last it closed in the
the~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~- axrt uihhr oefut eto e
th art uis e o8oefalltg e
whole building, and not even the chimney tops THE
could be seen. And the story of the beautiful SLEEPING
sleeping Thorn-rose (for thus was the princess BEAUTY
named) was told throughout the land, so that from
time to time many kings' sons came, and tried to
force their way through the hedge into the castle.
But it was all in vain; for the boughs kept together
as tightly as if they had clasped each other's hands,
so that the youths stuck fast among the thorns
and could not get out, and after struggling and
tumbling about for a long time, they one by one
After many long years had flown by, there came
another king's son through the land; and he heard
by chance from an old man the story of the thorn-
hedge, and the kings' sons who had been killed by
it. The old man also told him how it was said,
that there stood a castle on the other side of the
hedge,-and in the castle the beautiful princess,
Thorn-rose, slept, and with her the king and
queen and the whole household. Then the youth
said to him: 'The thorn-hedge shall not frighten
me. I will force my way through it, for I am
resolved to see the beautiful princess, Thorn-rose,
if it should cost me my life.'
But the day was now at hand when the hundred
years were to expire, and the spell to be dissolved.
And when the prince approached the hedge, the
thorns appeared to his sight only large beautiful
flowers, which separated before him of themselves,
and allowed him to pass through unhurt; and
when he had passed, he saw them close them-
selves again and stand up like a great wall behind
him. He entered the castle, and looked around
him with astonishment. In the courtyard were
horses with their grooms fast asleep: the pigeons,
too, sat sleeping upon the roof, and hid their little
heads under their wings. And when he came into
the house, he saw the very flies asleep upon the
THE walls; the cook held her hand as if she would
SLEEPING seize the kitchen-girl by the hair, and the maid
BEAUTY sat with the black fowl before her which she was
going to pluck. He went on farther, and as he
went, he saw the guards all asleep at their posts.
Then he came into the great hall, and he saw all
the courtiers sleeping there. He walked on again
and all was so still that he could hear his own
breath; and at last he went up a winding stair,
and opened the door of the chamber in which
Thorn-rose slept, and not far from where she lay
were the king and queen themselves. He went
near to the princess, and as she lay there, all still
and motionless, she looked so beautiful that he
could not take his eyes off her; at last he stooped
down and gave her a kiss. As soon as he had
touched her cheek, Thorn-rose opened her eyes,
woke up, and looked round her with a friendly
smile. Then she arose, and the prince and she
went down the stair together. And now the king
and queen, and the whole court, awoke, and rubbed
their eyes and looked with wonder at each other.
The horses also awoke, and neighed and shook
themselves; the greyhounds sprang to their feet
and wagged their tails; the doves, on the house-
top, drew their heads from under their wings,
looked round, and flew away into the meadow;
the flies on the wall began to creep along; the fire
in the kitchen flickered and flamed up; the roast
began to hiss; the old cook gave the kitchen-girl
a box on the ear, that made her scream; the maid,
too, was seen busily plucking away at the fowl.
To crown the whole, the wedding of Thorn-rose
and the king's son was celebrated with great
feasting and rejoicings; and they lived in peace
and happiness all their days.
THE BABES IN THE WOOD
HERE lived once on a time a father in THE
Norfolk who had two little children BABES
with his wife. I THE
One was a fine and pretty boy,
Not passing three years old,
The other a girl more young than he,
And framed in beauty's mould.
Now there came a pestilence in the land, and the
father and mother were both taken and fell very ill,
and saw that they were like to die. He was very
troubled about his children, when he and his wife
should be gone. This father was a man of some
possessions. He sent for his brother, and he made
his will, and he left to his little son three hundred
pounds a year; and to his little daughter Jane he
left five hundred pounds to be paid down on her
marriage day. But if the children should die
before they came of age, then he decreed that all
the money should go to their uncle.
When the father had settled his will, then he
called his brother to the bedside.
'Now, brother,' said the dying man,
'Look to my children dear;
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friends have they here.
THE To God and you I recommend
BABES My children dear this day;
IN THE But little while be sure we have
WOOD Within this world to stay.
'You must be father and mother both
And uncle all in one,
God knows what will become of them
When I am dead and gone.'
With that out spake their mother dear,
brother kind,' said she,
You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or misery.
'And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward,
But if you otherwise shall deal,
God will your deeds regard.'
With lips as cold as any stone
They kiss'd their children small:
'God bless you both, my children dear!'
With that their tears did fall.
The brother of the dying man spoke out that he
would do his best for the children, and be true to
the trust that was laid on him. And he said,
moreover, that if he should wrong them and rob
them of their rights, then he prayed that God
would turn His face from him, and that he might
cease to prosper in his undertakings.
This assurance comforted the sick father and
mother, and they died and were buried in one
The uncle then took the children away with him to
his own house, and he treated them not unkindly,
yet, for all, it was not as though they had been with
their own parents.
It must be told how that their uncle was a
covetous man, and he thought how well it would
be for him if the children were to die before they THE
grew to years of discretion, for then he would have BABES
the little boy's three hundred pounds a year, and INTWDE
the little girl's five hundred pounds. He kept
them in his own house for a twelvemonth and a
day, and then he formed a wicked device to get
rid of them both.
There were two wicked men who lived not far off,
who were ready to do any bad act if paid for it,
and he sent for these men, and bargained with
them to take the babes out into the greenwood,
and to kill them there. His wife, their aunt, was
a good and kind woman, and would never have
consented to such wickedness, whatever gain it
might bring, so he told her an artful tale, that it
was his purpose to send the children to a friend of
his in London, who would see to their schooling.
He then gave over the two children to the men
with whom he had agreed, and told them that they
were going to London where were toy-shops, and
THE as many toys to be had for the asking as their
BABES hearts could desire.
WOOD Away then went those pretty babes,
Rejoicing at that tide,
Rejoicing with a merry mind,
They would a cock-horse ride.
The two men conveyed them into the wood; and,
as they went, the children talked to them of what
they would do when they got all the pretty toys in
London town. And one of the men, who was
softer-hearted than the other, became sorry for
what he had taken in hand to do. But the second
man was hard, and he would not listen to his
fellow, and said he would kill them outright.
So they fell from words to blows; and they drew
their swords and fought; and he who was most
merciful in heart slew the other.
Now, when he saw that his fellow was dead, he
thought he might be taken and hanged for murder,
and that he must fly; but he could no ways see
what he could do with the poor babes, who stood
sobbing-frightened at seeing the men fighting.
He took the children by the hand,
Tears standing in their eye,
And bade them straightway follow him,
And look they did not cry.
And two long miles he led them on,
While they for food complain;
'Stay here,' said he, 'I'll bring you bread
When I come back again.'
Then he went away, and never came back. He
ran from the wood, and tried to escape into a
distant part of the country. Now, he had brought
the poor babes on very near to the edge of the
wood, and not a mile from where there were some
cottages, and he thought that they would make
their way out from under the trees and be found
by kind and good people, who would give them THE
food and shelter. BABES
But the poor little children were so frightened IOTOHE
and confused that they did not understand in
which direction to go. They waited a long while
for the man, and, as he did not come back, they
wandered in the wood; and in place of getting out
of it, by a sad mishap they turned, and went back
into its very depths.
These pretty babes, all hand in hand,
Went wandering up and down;
But never more could see the man
Approaching from the town.
Their pretty lips with blackberries
Were all besmeared and dyed;
But when came on the darksome night,
They sat them down and cried.
Thus wander'd these poor innocents
Till death did end their grief;
In one another's arms they died
As wanting due relief.
No burial this pretty pair
Of any man receives,
But Robin-redbreast, piously,
Did cover them with leaves.
It must now be told how that the wicked uncle
got no rest in mind or body. Nothing prospered
with him. His fields were blighted, and his cattle
died in stall. His barns caught fire, and his
He had sent his sons in a merchant-ship to
Portugal, and a violent storm arose, wrecked the
vessel, and his sons were drowned.
So badly did the uncle fare, that, in seven years,
all his lands and goods were in pawn or lost; and
himself smitten with an ague that never left him,
but made him shiver and shake.
THE As for the man who had left the Babes in the
BABES wood, he was convicted of a robbery and thrown
IN THE into prison, when he confessed the whole story-
D how he was hired by the uncle, how he had fought
with and killed his fellow, and how he had deserted
the children in the wood.
Thus it was the whole story came to the light of
I AR away in the hazy purple of antiquity, PRETTY
when all stepmothers were wicked, UMARA
and all younger sons were successful, USCHKA
there lived on the confines of a forest
a woman who had two daughters: the
one her own, the other only a step-
child. Naturally, the love of the
mother was concentrated on her own Helena, and,
as naturally, she disliked Maruschka, who was the
fairest, the gentlest, and the most pious of the
Little did pretty Maruschka know of her own
surpassing beauty-a fact proving to us how
remote from the present age was that in which
these damsels lived. Her hair was like the waving
gold of the cornfield when the wind soughs over
it, and her eyes were as the blue forget-me-not
which smiles and glimmers in a quiet nook by the
brookside. She was slim and graceful; her step
was light, for her heart was free. Wherever she
went she brought cheerfulness and smiles; like
the little golden sunbeams which pierce among
the tfee-shadows of a forest, and light up unex-
pected beauties where all before was gloom; now
painting a saffron butterfly, now kindling an
PRETTY emerald moss-tuft, now making a scarlet lily flame
MAR- against the dusk of the forest glades behind.
USCHKA Helena was dressed by her mother in gay colours
for Sunday and Feast-day, but poor little Mar-
suchka had only a dingy grey gown, cast off by
her sister. Helena wore black shoes with silver
buckles, but pretty Maruschka clattered up the
churchyard path in wooden clogs. Helena wore
a false gold chain of great links round her neck,
but her half-sister had only a turquoise-coloured
ribbon and a little silver cross with a crystal in
it-that was her only ornament-and that had been
given her by a lady whom she had guided into the
road, when she had lost her way in the forest.
As the mother and the two girls went to church
on Sunday, the lads were all in the yard hanging
about the tombstones; and the old woman heard
them whisper, 'There is pretty Maruschka;' but
never once did they say,'See pretty Helena.' So
she was angry, and hated the golden-haired, blue-
eyed maiden. At home she made her do all the
hard work-scrub the floors, cook the victuals,
mend the clothes-whilst Helena stood all day
before her glass, combing her hair and adorning
herself with trinkets, and wishing it were Sunday
that she might flare before the eyes of the young
men in the churchyard.
Helena and her mother did all that lay in their
power to make the little girl's life miserable. They
scolded her, they beat her, they devised schemes
of annoyance for her, but never could they ruffle
the sweet temper of Maruschka.
One day, in the depth of winter, Helena cried out,
'Ah, me! would that I had a bunch of violets in
my bosom to-morrow, when I go to church. Run,
Maruschka, run into the forest and pluck them for
me, that I may have them to smell at whilst the
priest gives us his sermon.'
'Oh, my sister!' answered Maruschka, 'who ever
heard of violets being gathered in midwinter, PRETTY
under the deep snow?' MAR-
'Idle hussey!' screamed Helena; 'go at once and USCHKA
fetch them. Have them I will, and you shall not
come back without them.'
Then the mother chimed in with, Mind and bring
a large bunch, or you shall not be taken in here
for the night. Go!' and she caught her, thrust
her from the house, and slammed the door behind
Bitterly weeping, the poor maiden wandered
into the forest. The snow lay deep everywhere,
undinted by human foot; white wreaths hung on
the bushes, and the sombre pine-boughs were
frosted over with snow. Here were the traces of
a hare, there the prints of a badger. An owl
called from the depths of the forest. The girl lost
hei- way. Dusk came on, and a few stars looked
through the interlacing boughs overhead, watching
Maruschka. An icy wind moaned through the
trees, shaking the pines as though they quaked
with mortal fear, and then they bent their branches
and shot their loads of snow in dust to the ground.
Strange harp-like sounds reverberated through
the gloom, and gratings of bough on bough, which
seemed as though the wood demons were gnawing
at fallen timbers. Now a great black crow, which
had been brooding among dark firs and pines,
startled by the footfall and sobs of the maiden,
expanded his wings, and, with a harsh scream,
rushed away, noisily, sending the life-blood with a
leap to the girl's heart. Suddenly, before her-far
up on a hill-top-a light appeared, ruddy and
flickering. Maruschka, inspired with hope, made
for it, scrambling up a rocky slope through deep
snow-drifts. She reached the summit, and beheld
a great fire. Around this fire were twelve rough
stones, and on each stone sat a man. Three were
grey-bearded, three were middle-aged, three were
PRETTY youths; and the last three were the youngest and
MAR- fairest. They spake not, but looked intently on
USCHKA the roaring flames. He who sat in the seat of
honour had a long staff in his hand. His hair
was white, and fluttering in the cold wind.
Maruschka was startled, and watched them
with astonishment for a little while; then muster-
ing courage, she stepped within the circle and
'Dear, good friends, please suffer me to warm
myself a little while at the fire, for, indeed, I am
perishing with cold.' He with the flowing white
hair raised his head, and said-
'Yes, child, approach. But what brings you
'I am seeking violets,' she answered.
'Violets! It is not the time for violets, when the
snow lies deep?'
'Ah, sir! I know that well; but sister Helena PRETTY
and mother have bidden me bring them violets, MAR-
and if I do not I must perish in the cold. You, USCHKA
kind shepherds, tell me where I may find violets!'
Then the white aged one arose from his seat,
stepped to one of the blooming youths, put his
staff into his hand, and said-
'Brother March, take thou the pre-eminence.'
Then the Month March sat himself on the chief
stone, and waved his staff over the fire. Instantly
the flames rushed up and blazed with greater
brilliancy, the snow began to thaw, the hazel-
bushes were covered with catkins, and glossy buds
appeared on the beech. Green herbs thrust up
through the moist soil, a primrose gleamed from a
dusky bank, and a sweet fragrance of violets was
wafted by on a gentle breeze. Under a bush, the
ground was purple with their scented blossoms.
'Quick, Maruschka, pluck!' ordered March. The
girl hastily gathered a handful. Then she cour-
tesied to the twelve Months, thanked them cordially,
and hurried home.
Helena was amazed when her half-sister came
with the bunch to the door. She opened it to
her, and the house was filled with the delicious
'Where did you find them?' she asked.
'High up on the mountain, under a hawthorn
Helena took the flowers, and set them in her
bosom. She let her mother smell at them, but she
never gave one to Maruschka.
When they came home from church next day,
Helena cast off her gay shawls, and sat down to
supper. But she had no appetite for what was on
the table. She was angry with her sister; for all
the lads had fixed their eyes on Maruschka, and
had not even been attracted to her by the fragrant
bunch of violets. 'How beautiful is Maruschka
PRETTY to-day!' had said some of the older people; and
MAR- none had spoken a good word of her.
USCHKA So she sat and sighed, and hated the pretty girl
more and more.
Oh that I had strawberries!' she said. 'I can eat
nothing this evening but strawberries. Run, Mar-
uschka, into the forest and gather me a dishful.'
'Dear sister, this is not the time of the year for
strawberries. Who ever heard of strawberries
ripening under the snow?'
But the stepmother angrily exclaimed: 'Run,
Maruschka, fetch them at once, as your sister has
ordered, or I will strike you dead;' and she thrust
her from the door.
The poor girl cried bitterly; she looked back at
the firelight which glimmered through the case-
ment, and thought how warm it was within, whilst
without it was so piercingly cold. But she dared
not return unless she had with her the desired
fruit. So she plunged into the forest. The snow
lay deep, and nowhere was a human footprint.
Snow began to fall in fine powder, whitening her
shoulders, clinging to the folds of her grey dress,
and forming a cap of ice on her golden hair. In
that dull rayless night there was no light to show
the blue ribbon, which strayed among the tree
boles, or to twinkle on the crystal of the silver
Presently Maruschka saw, high up on the summit
of a rugged hill, a blazing fire. She scrambled to
it, and there she found the Twelve sitting solemn
and silent around the flames, and the Ice Month,
with his staff, sat still on the seat of honour.
'Dear, good friends, please suffer me to warm
myself a little while at the fire,' she asked in a
beseeching voice; 'for, indeed, I am perishing
Then the one with the drifting white locks raised
his head and said-
'Yes, child, approach. But what brings you here?' PRETTY
I am seeking strawberries,' she answered. MAR-
'Strawberries! It is not the time for strawberries USCHKA
when the snow lies deep?'
'Ah, sir! I know that well; but sister Helena
and mother have bidden me bring them straw-
berries, or they will strike me dead. You, kind
shepherds, tell me where I may find strawberries.'
Then the white Ice Month arose from his seat,
stepped across the area to one of the young men,
put the staff into his hand, and said-
'Brother June, take thou the pre-eminence.'
Then the Month June sat himself on the chief
stone, and waved his staff over the fire. Instantly
it glowed like molten gold, beams of glory
streamed from it through the forest, and it shone
like a sun resting on the earth. Overhead, the
clouds flamed and curled in wreaths of light-tinted
rose, carnation, and purple, athwart a sky blue as
the forget-me-not. Every trace of snow vanished,
and the earth was buried in green. The trees were
covered with rustling leaves. Blue-bells gleamed
under their shadows, and then died away. Red-
robin blushed in tufts, and then shed its ragged
petals. Wild roses burst into glorious flower, and
the soft air was charged with the scent of the
sweet-briar. From among the forest-glades called,
in cool notes, a wood-dove. The thrush began to
warble, and the blackbird to pipe. A bright-eyed
squirrel danced among the fresh green leaves on
the tree-tops. Beside a brown stone was a patch
of sloping green. It was dotted with little white
stars with golden hearts. Now the leaves drop
off, and the hearts swell, and flush, and glow, and
'Quick, Maruschka, pluck!' said June.
Then the girl joyfully hurried to the slope, and
gathered an apronful of the luscious strawberries.
PRETTY She courtesied to the twelve Months, thanked them
MAR- cordially, and hurried home.
USCHKA Helena was astonished as she saw her come to
the house, and she ran to open the door. The
whole cottage was fragrant with the odour of the
'Where did you gather them?' asked Helena.
'High up on the mountains, under a brown rock.'
Helena took the strawberries, and ate them with
her mother. She never offered even one to pretty
Next day, Helena had again no appetite for her
'Oh, if I had only ripe apples!' she said; and
then, turning to her sister, she ordered, 'Run,
Maruschka, run into the wood and gather me
some ripe apples.'
'Dear sister, this is not the time of the year for
apples. Who ever heard of apples ripening in an
But her stepmother cried out, Run, Maruschka,
fetch the apples as your sister has required, or I
will strike you dead.'
And she thrust her from the door into the cold
The maiden hastened, sobbing, into the wood; the
snow lay deep, and nowhere was there a human
footprint. The new moon glimmered in a clear
sky, and sent its feeble beams into the forest deeps,
forming little trembling, silvery pools of light, which
appeared and vanished, and formed again. And a
low wind whispered a great secret in the trees, but
so faint was the tone that none could make out
what it said. There was a little opening in the
wood; in the midst stood a grey wolf looking up
at the moon and howling; but when Maruschka
came near, it fled, and was lost among the shadows.
The poor maiden shivered with cold, and her teeth
chattered. Her lips were purple and her cheeks
white; and the tears, as they formed, froze on her PRETTY
long eyelashes. She would have sunk on a snow- MAR-
drift and died, had she not seen, up high on a USCHKA
rugged hill-top, a blazing fire. Towards it she
made her way, and found it to be the same she had
seen before. Round about, solemn and silent, sat
the Twelve, and the Ice Month was on the seat of
honour, clasping the staff of power.
'Dear, good friends, please suffer me to warm my-
self a little while at the fire,' she asked, in suppli-
cating tones; for, indeed, I am perishing with cold.'
Then the one with the long white hair and frosty
beard raised his head, and said: 'Yes, child, ap-
proach; but what brings you here?'
'I am seeking ripe apples,' she answered.
'Ripe apples! It is not the time for ripe apples,
when the snow lies deep?'
'Ah, sir! I know that well; but sister Helena and
mother have bidden me bring them ripe apples, or
they will strike me dead. You, kind shepherds, tell
me where I may find ripe apples.'
Then the Ice Month arose from his seat, stepped to
one of the elder men, put the staff into his hand,
'Brother September, take thou the pre-eminence.'
Then the Month September sat himself on the
chief stone, and waved his staff over the fire.
Whereat it glowed like a furnace, red and fierce;
sparks flew about, and volumes of glaring hot
smoke, like the vapour of molten metal, rolled up
to heaven. In a moment the snow was gone.
The trees were covered with sere leaves; the oak
foliage was brown and crumpled, that of the ash
yellow as sulphur; other trees seemed leafed with
copper. Stray leaves floated past and were whirled
by little wind-eddies into rustling heaps. A few
yellow flowers shook in the hot air. Pinks hung
over the rocks, covering their faces with wandering
shadows. Ladyfern waved and wafted its pleasant
PRETTY odour. A constant hum of bees and beetles and flies
MAR- sounded through the wood. Maruschka looked
USCHKA about her for apples, and beheld a tree on whose
branches hung the ruddy fruit.
'Quick, Maruschka, shake!' commanded Sep-
tember. Then she shook, and there fell an apple;
she shook again, and there fell another. 'Quick,
Maruschka, hasten home!' said the Month.
Then she courtesied to the Twelve, thanked them
cordially, and returned to the house of her step-
Helena marvelled not a little when she saw the
'How many have you plucked?' she asked.
'Where did you find them?'
'High up, on the mountain-top, on a tree weighed
down with them.'
'Why did you not gather more? Did you not eat
them on your way home?' asked Helena, fiercely.
'Oh, dear sister, I have not tasted one! I shook
once, and down fell an apple; I shook twice, and
there fell another. I might not bring away more.'
Helena struck her, and drove her to the kitchen.
Then she tasted one of the apples. Never before
had she eaten one so sweet and juicy. The step-
mother ate the second.
'Mother!' exclaimed Helena, 'give me my fur
dress. I will go to the hill and bring some apples.
That hussey has eaten all she took except two.'
Then she wrapped herself up, and hurried into the
wood. The snow lay deep, and nowhere was a
human footprint. Helena lost herself; but presently
she was aware of a hill, and a fire burning at the
summit. She hastened to the light. There she
saw a great blaze, and round it sat the twelve
Months, silent and solemn. He with the long
snowy locks sat on the seat of honour, holding
the rod of power. Helena stared at them, then,
pushing through the circle, went to the fire, and PRETTY
began to warm herself. MAR-
'What seek you here?' asked the Ice Month, with USCHKA
a frown wrinkling his white brow.
'That is no business of yours,' answered Helena,
sharply, over her shoulder.
The Ice Month shook his head, and, raising his
arm, waved the staff over the fire.
Instantly the flames sank, and the fire was reduced
to a glowing spark. The clouds rolled over the sky,
and, bursting, discharged snow in such quantities
that nothing was visible in earth and heaven but
drifting white particles. An icy wind rumbled in
the forest and roared round the hill. Helena fled.
Everywhere white fleeting spots-whirling, falling,
rising, scudding! She ran this way, then that;
she stumbled over a fallen log, she gathered her-
self up and ran again; then she plunged into a deep
drift; and the white cold down from the breast of
heaven whirled and fell, and rose, and fleeted, and
danced this side of her, and dropped here on her,
and rested there on her, and lodged on this limb,
and built up a white heap on that limb, then
bridged over one fold and filled up another. She
shook herself, and the particles fell off. But then
they began theirwork again: they spangled her with
white, they wove a white net, they filled up the in-
terstices of her lace, they built a mound over her
arm, they buried her foot, they raised a cairn above
her bosom. Then they spun a dance around the
white face which looked up at them, and began
to whiten it still more; lastly, they smoothed the
sheet over her, and the work was done.
The mother looked out of the window and
wondered that Helena did not return. Hour after
hour passed, and her daughter came not.
'Maybe the apples are so sweet that she cannot
eat enough,' thought the mother. 'I will go seek
PRETTY So she wrapped herself up in a thick shawl and
MAR- went forth.
USCHKA The snow lay deep, and nowhere was a human
footprint. She called Helena, but received no
answer. Then she lost her way. The snow fell,
and the wind howled.
Maruschka sat over the fire and cooked supper.
Mother and sister came back no more.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
SHERE was a merchantman once, who BEAUTY
was very rich. AND THE
He had three daughters, and he BEAST
spared no expense to provide them
with an excellent education.
His daughters were beautiful; but
the youngest so excelled her sisters
that, from earliest childhood, she was called the
Beauty, and afterwards this name slipped into,
But the real cause why she was so much more
admired than her sisters was that she was
amiable and they were not; and the sweetness of
her disposition shone out in her face and made
it doubly sweet. No frown ever spoiled her fair
brow; no pout was ever on her pleasant lips. She
possessed the charm of good temper which makes
even a plain face agreeable.
The merchant's elder daughters were idle, ill-
humoured, and proud; and people did not consider
them as beautiful, because they saw only the bad
temper that was in the expression of their faces.
The pride of the young ladies was so great that
they despised all such as were of their own rank
in hfe, and wished to be the friends of noble
ladies and princesses. They hunted after grand
BEAUTY acquaintances, and met with many mortifications
AND THE accordingly. They gave themselves great airs, and,
BEAST to show the world how high in life they were, they
held up their noses. Their whole time was spent
in balls, operas, and visiting and driving about.
Meanwhile, Beauty kept to her books; and, when
not at work, she loved in kindly way to go among
the sick and poor, and comfort them. Thus it
came about that she was as much beloved by the
poor as she was admired by the rich.
As it was well known that their father was a well-
to-do man, many merchants asked the girls in
marriage; but all these offers were refused, be-
cause the two eldest had set their minds on
marrying only nobles, and the youngest had no
wish to be married at all.
Beauty's great desire was to be with her father
when he was old and feeble, and to be then his
One unhappy day the merchant returned home,
very downcast, to inform his children that his
ships had been wrecked, his head clerk had
defrauded him, and that the firms which owed
him money were bankrupt. He was, therefore, a
ruined man. Beauty wept because her father was
unfortunate and unhappy, and asked him what
was to be done.
'Alack, dear child!' he replied, 'I must sell this
house, and go to live in a cottage in the country;
and we shall have to work with our hands to put
bread into our mouths.'
'Well, father,' said Beauty, 'I can spin and knit
and sew very neatly. I daresay I shall be able to
The elder daughters said nothing, but resolved to
marry such of their rejected lovers as were richest.
They speedily found, however, that their rejected
lovers rejected all their advances, now that they
On the other hand, such as had admired Beauty BEAUTY
pressed their services on her, and would gladly AND THE
have shared their fortunes with her. She, how- BEAST
ever, could not think of deserting her father when
he was reduced to low estate. She felt she must
abide by him, and work for him.
Very soon, the grand house in town was sold, as
well as all the rich furniture, and the merchant
and his daughters retired into the country.
Beauty now rose at four o'clock every morning.
She cleaned the house, laid and lighted the fires,
prepared the breakfast, and put flowers on the
table. Then she cooked the dinner, and made the
house tidy. She was happy, and sang like a lark
over her work, and slept peacefully, and had
Meanwhile, her sisters grew peevish, dissatisfied,
and miserable. They would not work; and, as they
had no occupation and no amusement, the days
dragged along and seemed as though they would
never end. They did nothing but regret the past,
and grumble over the present. As they had no
one to admire them, they neglected their personal
appearance and became veritable dowdies.
Perhaps they perceived that the contrast between
their sister and themselves was not to their advan-
tage, for they became spiteful in their manner to
Beauty, and held up their hands and declared that
she had always been fit only to be a servant.
'It is clear as daylight,' said they to Beauty;
'that Nature made you to occupy a menial
position, and now you are in your proper place.
As for us, we are ladies. We can't soil our
fingers, we can't dust the furniture, we can't scrub
the floor. We are above such things.'
The merchant heard, after a while, that there was
some chance of retrieving part of his fortune if he
made a journey to a country where one of his
richest vessels had been wrecked. He must claim
1EAUTY what had been recovered from the sea.. Accord-
AND THE ingly, he bade his daughters farewell, and he did
BEAST so in a hopeful spirit, for he believed he would get
back enough to make their life more comfortable.
Before leaving, he asked his daughters what they
would desire him to bring for them on his return,
as a little token that he remembered them.
The eldest asked for a diamond necklace. The
second wished for a whole suite of pearls. The
youngest said, 'Dear father, bring me a white
So the father kissed all his daughters, and de-
parted. He was successful; and had recovered so
much of his property that he hoped to reopen his
business, and in time recover all that was lost.
When he prepared to return home, he remem-
bered the requests of his daughters, and bought
diamonds for the eldest and pearls for the second;
but he sought everywhere in vain for a white rose.
This distressed him greatly, as his youngest
daughter was his favourite child.
Now, as he was on his way home, he lost his way
in a wood. Night was closing in, and as the
merchant was aware that there were wolves,
bears, and wild boars in that country, he was very
anxious to find a shelter for the night.
Presently he perceived in the distance a twinkling
light, and he urged his horse in that direction.
But, to his surprise, instead of coming to a wood-
man's hut, he found himself in front of a magnifi-
cent castle, to which led a stately avenue, com-
posed of orange and lemon-trees hung with fruit.
He did not hesitate to pass down this avenue, and,
at the end, he came to the steps leading to the
front gate, and through the open door shone the
light that had attracted him.
He entered, having first knocked at the door, and
looked round him expecting to see servants. But
no one responded to his knock, and the hall was
wholly deserted. He passed through several BEAUTY
galleries and empty rooms-all illuminated and all AND THE
empty-and finally stayed his course in a smaller BEAST
apartment where a fire was burning, and a couch
was prepared as if for some one to lie on it. Being
very tired and cold, he cast himself down on the
couch and fell asleep.
After a pleasant and refreshing slumber he awoke,
and found he was still alone; but a little table
stood by him, and on it was spread a delicious
repast. As he was extremely hungry, he sat at
the table, and partook of all the good things on it.
Then he threw himself on the couch again, and
again fell asleep.
When he awoke, the morning sun shone into the
room, the little table was still at his side, but on
it was now spread an excellent breakfast.
The merchant began now to be very uneasy at the
intense stilness of the house, and perplexed at
seeing no one. He left the little room and entered
the garden, which was beautifully laid out, and
was full of flowers. 'Well,' said the merchant to
himself, 'this wonderful place seems to have no
master. I will go home and bring my daughters
to it, and we shall be able to claim it as our home;
for I discovered it, and it belongs, as far as I can
see, to no one.'
He then went to fetch his horse, and, as he turned
down the path to the stable, he saw a hedge of
white roses on each side of it. Thereat the
merchant remembered the request of his youngest
daughter, and he plucked one to take to her.
Immediately he was alarmed by hearing a horrible
noise. Turning in the direction of the sound, he
saw a frightful Beast, which seemed to be very
angry, and which exclaimed-
'Who gave you permission to gather my roses?
Was it not enough that I suffered you to lie on my
couch, and warm yourself at my fire, and eat my
BEAUTY supper and breakfast? Your insolence shall not
AND THE go unpunished.'
BEAST The merchant, terrified at these words and threats,
dropped the rose, and casting himself on his knees,
cried: 'Forgive me, sir; I am sincerely grateful
for your hospitality, which was so profuse that I
hardly thought you would grudge me one rose.'
The Beast's anger was not mitigated by this speech.
'I pay no regard to your excuses,' said he. 'You
shall most certainly die.'
'Alas!' exclaimed the merchant. 'Oh, Beauty !
Beauty! why did you ask this fatal thing of me?
The white rose you desired will be the death of
The Beast asked the merchant the meaning of this
exclamation, and the merchant then related the
story of his misfortunes, and of the requests made
by his daughters. 'It cost me nearly all I re-
covered of my fortune,' said he, 'to buy the diamonds
and pearls for my eldest girls; I did not think I
was doing any harm in plucking the poor little
white rose for my youngest.'
The Beast considered for a while, and then said-
'I will pardon you on one condition, that is, that
you will give me one of your daughters.'
'Oh!' exclaimed the merchant. 'If I were so cruel
as to buy my own life at the expense of one of my
children, what excuse could I make to bring her
'No excuse is needed,' answered the Beast. 'If
she comes at all, she will come willingly. Let me
see if any one of them be brave enough, and loves
you dearly enough, to come here and save your
life. You seem to be an honest man. I give you a
month in which to return home and propose to
one of your daughters to come here to me. If none
of them be willing, then I expect you, on your
honour, to return here to your death. Say good-
bye to them for ever.'
The merchant reluctantly accepted this proposal. BEAUTY
He did not think any of his daughters would come; AND THE
but it reprieved him for one month, and gave him BEAST
an opportunity of saying farewell to them, and of
settling his affairs.
He promised to return at the appointed time, and
then asked permission to set off at once.
But the Beast would not allow this till the next
day. 'Then,' said he, 'you will find a horse ready
for you. Go in, and eat your dinner, and await my
The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went
back into the palace, and into the same room in
which he had rested before. There he found a
most delicious meal prepared for him. He was,
however, in no mood to eat; and if he swallowed a
few mouthfuls, it was only lest he should anger the
Beast by refusing all food from his table. When
he had finished, he heard a trampling in the pass-
ages, and, shortly, the monstrous Beast appeared,
who repeated the terms of the agreement they had
made; and he added-
' Do not get up to-morrow until after sunrise, and
till you have heard a bell ring. Then you will find
your breakfast prepared for you here, and the
horse you are to ride will be ready in the court-
yard. He will bring you back again when you
come with your daughter a month hence. Fare-
well! take a white rose for Beauty; and remember
The merchant was only too glad when the Beast
went away, and though he could not sleep for sad-
ness of heart, yet he lay down on the couch. Next
morning, after a hasty breakfast, he went to gather
the rose for Beauty, mounted the horse, and rode
The gloomy thoughts that weighed on his mind
were not dispersed when he drew up at his cottage
door. His daughters, who had been uneasy at his
BEAUTY long absence, were prodigal of their embraces, and,
AND THE seeing him ride home on such a splendid horse,
BEAST they felt quite sure that he had been successful in
his journey. He gave his elder daughters the
gems and pearls they had desired, and, as he
handed the rose to Beauty, he sadly said, 'You
little know, my darling, what this has cost me.'
This saying greatly excited the curiosity of his
children, and they gave him no rest till he had told
them the whole story from beginning to end.
The elder daughters urged him to break his
promise and remain at the cottage; but their
father said that a promise was a promise, whether
made to a king or a pauper, a man or a beast, and
that he must fulfil it. Then the two eldest were
very angry with Beauty, and told her that it was
all her fault. If she had asked for something
sensible this would not have happened.
'If it be my fault,' answered Beauty meekly, 'it is
only fitting that I should suffer for it. I will, there-
fore, go back with my father to the palace of the
At first her father would not hear of this, but
Beauty was firm.
As the time drew near she divided all her little
possessions between her sisters, and said good-bye
to all she loved.
Now, it must be told, that when Beauty had received
the white rose she put it in water, and when she
had heard how it was won, and what it entailed,
she had wept nightly over it, and her tears falling
on it seemed to have preserved it in its beauty, for
at the end of the month it was as fresh as when
first picked; and the scent was so sweet that it
perfumed the whole house. She put the white
rose in her bosom, when the day came for de-
parture, and she mounted on a pillion behind her
father to depart.
The horse seemed to fly rather than gallop; and
Beauty would have enjoyed the journey if it were BEAUTY
not for the dreadful prospect of the Beast at the AND THE
end of it. Her father constantly urged her to BEAST
dismount and turn back, but she would not hearken
At last they reached the avenue of.orange trees,
and then a wonderful sight was seen. Every
orange was like a globe of light; the oranges were
deep yellow, and the lemons pale yellow, and all
shone like lamps. Moreover, beautiful lights
played about the palace, and sweet music mur-
mured among the trees.
'The Beast must be very hungry,' said Beauty, 'if
he makes such rejoicing over getting such a little
mouthful as myself.'
The horse now stopped at the foot of the flight of
BEAUTY steps leading to the gate, and when she had dis-
AND THE mounted, her father led her through the halls and
BEAST galleries to the little room in which he had rested
and been regaled when there on his former visit.
Again the fire was burning, and on the table a
lavish supper was spread.
The merchant knew that this was meant for them;
and Beauty, who was rather less frightened now
that she had passed through so many rooms with-
out seeing the Beast, was willing to begin, for her
long ride had made her hungry.
They had hardly finished eating, before they heard
tramp, tramp! stump, stump! It was the sound
of the beast approaching; and Beauty clung to her
father in terror, which was heightened when she
saw how greatly alarmed he was.
But when the Beast entered, like a brave and a
courteous girl she stood up, mastered her fear, and,
making a low courtesy, said: 'I thank you, Mr.
Beast, for my pretty white rose.'
Then the Beast was pleased. He saw the little
flower in her bosom, looking white and fresh as
when first picked; and he said, somewhat gently-
'Did you come quite willingly, Beauty?'
'Yes, Mr. Beast,' said Beauty, and dropped another
'And will you be willing to remain with me, when
your father is gone? I will not eat you-my food
is only crystallised rose and violet leaves. I eat
nothing more solid or less Tsthetic.'
'Yes, Mr. Beast,' answered Beauty; and the
thought that she was not to be eaten revived
her courage, and she dropped another little
'I am well pleased with you,' said the Beast. You
shall stay. As for you,' he now turned to the
merchant, 'at sunrise, to-morrow, you must depart.
When the bell rings, rise quickly and eat your
breakfast, and you will find the same horse wait-